They turned the boat and headed toward her. She struck out harder than ever for the shore. On came the motor-boat.
Arnold and Woodward looked at each other in despair. What could they do?
. . . . . . .
Somehow, by a sort of instinct, I suppose, I made my way as quickly as
I could along the shore toward Fort Dale, thinking perhaps of
Lieutenant Woodward.
As I came upon the part of the grounds of the Fort that sloped down to the beach, I saw a group of young officers standing about a peculiar affair on the shore in the shallow water—half bird, half boat.
As I came closer, I recognized it as a Thomas hydroaeroplane.
It suggested an idea and I hurried, shouting.
One of the men, seated in it, was evidently explaining its working to the others.
"Wait," he said, as he saw me running down the shore, waving and shouting at them. "Let's see what this fellow wants."
It was, as I soon learned, the famous Captain Burnside, of the United States Aerial Corps. Breathless, I told him what I had seen and that we were all friends of Woodward's.