The boys picked up the girl and carried her to the Atwood cottage that was only a little distance away. Rose Atwood together with Agnes and Amy Fennington, who had come over and were all interest and attention, recognized her as Mary Rockwell, a girl whom they had met at the dance which the radio boys had given, getting the music over the radio set from a broadcasting station. Together with Mrs. Atwood, they gave her all possible care after the doctor had given her a sedative, and word was sent over to her people assuring them of her safety.
In the meanwhile the rescued lads, after they had been looked over by the doctor and given a slight stimulant, had been borne off bodily by Bob and the other radio boys to the cottage of Bob’s parents, where they sat on the veranda while supper was being prepared, for Bob had given them a cordial invitation to take supper and spend the evening with them.
As they were about the size of Bob and Joe, 27 the latter had furnished them with extra suits of their own clothes while their drenched garments were taken in charge by Mrs. Layton to be dried and pressed.
And now for the first time the new acquaintances were able to take a good look at each other. What they saw pleased them mutually.
One of the boys was slender and agile, with frank, honest eyes and a friendly smile that was almost constantly in evidence. His hair was brown and wavy and his complexion naturally fair, though it was at the moment tanned by the sun and sea air. There was not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his body, and he gave the impression of being a trained athlete.
The other had a humorous face that betrayed Irish ancestry, which was emphasized by the merest touch of a brogue when he talked. His hair was red and his face freckled, and there was something about him that was extremely likable and made the boys warm to him at once.
“We haven’t had a chance to learn each other’s names yet,” said Bob, with a smile, as the party settled comfortably into the veranda seats. “And that’s not surprising either,” he added, “for we’ve been pretty busy since the first moment we met. This is the first chance we’ve had to draw our breaths. My name is Bob Layton, and these 28 pals of mine are Joe Atwood, Herb Fennington and Jimmy Plummer, the latter the greatest doughnut eater in captivity.”
“And our handles are Larry Bartlett and Tim Barcommon,” said the taller of the two newcomers, as they laughingly acknowledged the introductions. “And before we do anything else we want to tell you fellows how grateful we are for the way you came to our help. It would have been all up for us if you hadn’t.”
“Yes,” chimed in Tim, “we’ll never forget it as long as we live. It was a mighty plucky thing for you fellows to pull out in the sea that was running. The sight of you coming was the only thing that helped me to hold on. I was just about all in when you reached us. You certainly sent that old boat spinning along.”
“Oh, that was nothing,” disclaimed Bob. “We just happened to be on the spot. Any one else would have done the same thing.”