“How long have you been out here on this rock?” demanded Helen, in horror.
“Ever since I left the bungalow.”
“Why didn’t you wave your signal from the top of the rock, so that it could be seen on the point?” asked Ruth, wonderingly.
“There’s no way to get to the top of the rock–or around to the other side of it, either,” declared the runaway. “Look at these clothes! They are nearly torn off. And see my hands!”
“Oh, you poor, poor thing!” exclaimed Helen, seeing how the castaway’s hands were torn.
“I tried it. I’ve shouted myself hoarse. No boat paid any attention to me. They were all too far away, I suppose.”
“And did that awful man, Crab, bring you here?” cried Ruth.
“Yes. It was dark when he landed and showed me this cave in the rock. There was food and water. Why, I’ve got plenty to eat and drink even now. But nobody has been here––”
“Didn’t he come back?” queried Tom, at last taking part in the conversation.
“He rowed out here once. I told him I’d sink his boat with a rock if he tried to land. I was afraid of him,” declared the girl.