“I’m down in a dreadful cave, Tom,” said Rose very faintly. “My foot is broken, and the water is coming in. Oh, come quickly, Tom, or I shall be drowned!”
“I guess that’s so,” thought Tom, with a sudden idea, as a great wave broke over Gull Rock. “She is down in the Punch Bowl! It’s almost high tide. Oh, I must be quick or we’ll both be drowned.”
Tom had no thought of being afraid. Rose must be saved if he could do it. Now he had a chance to prove what a good boatman he was. He rowed as fast as possible around Gull Rock to a place where he thought he could land. It was on the sheltered side of the rock, where the waves did not break quite so heavily; but it was difficult enough. He drew up his boat and fastened it securely. Then he hurried to the Punch Bowl, which was the fisherman’s name for that dangerous cave.
Tom knew it well. When he came to the hole he shouted down anxiously. Rose answered, so he knew that she was still safe. Down he climbed, nimbly as a monkey. At the bottom he found the poor little girl in a pool of water.
“Oh, Tom!” she cried. “I am so glad! Do you think you can get me out?”
“’Course I’ll get you out!” said Tom, feeling very big. Just then a great wave came sweeping in and nearly drowned them both. “We must hurry,” sputtered Tom; “there’s no time to spare. Come, Rose, you must try as hard as you can.” Rose tried as hard as she could. Tom lifted and pulled and pushed, and somehow or other he managed to help her out of that dreadful hole. Then he half carried, half dragged her over the rocks to his dory. Just as they were about to push off there came the biggest wave of all. It broke completely over the rock, filled the boat half full of water, and knocked both the children off their feet. But they clung together and were not swept into the sea.
“If we had been in the cave when that wave broke,” said Tom solemnly, “we should both have been drowned. Let’s get away before another of those big fellows comes.”
He emptied the water out of the boat, lifted Rose in, and pushed off with all his might. The next big wave leaped after them, burying Gull Rock under a heap of foam. But the children had escaped. The boat was moving through quieter waters towards the bathing beach.
They heard a shout from the shore, and looking up saw the crowd of anxious watchers. There were Kenneth and Charlie dancing up and down and shouting, “Hurrah!” There was Mr. Smith, first fluttering his handkerchief, then using it to wipe his eyes. There was Mr. Thornton up to his waist in the water, waving his arms and calling,—
“Rose! Rose! Are you safe?”