"Do you s'pose we could row?" questioned Polly.
"I don't know how," said Rose, "but it didn't look hard when Donald did it."
They reached for the oars, but found that neither was strong enough to lift one, and Rose's eyes filled with tears when she looked at Polly, while Polly's brave effort to cheer Rose with a smile failed, because her own lips were quivering.
"Let's sit down in the bottom of the boat, it seems safer," said Rose.
They slipped from their seats, and each clung to the other.
"If only Uncle John knew!" wailed Rose.
"If only he knew!" echoed Polly, with a sob.
Still the little boat rocked lightly on the waves, and now they no longer tried to hide their fear, but cried, because they could not help it.
Out on a high bluff a tall, square-shouldered man leveled a powerful glass and looked out across the waves.
Evidently he saw what he was looking for, and hastily slinging the leather strap that held the glass over his shoulder, he strode down to the shore.