Sandy choked and coughed. “Too close.”
Then Ken noticed that Sandy’s hands were empty. The gasoline can he had been carrying was no longer in sight.
“The gas—overboard!” Ken said.
Sandy shook his head, struggling to get to his feet. “Don’t worry. Two more cans in there.”
“In where?”
Sandy’s eyes followed Ken’s and the color drained out of his wet cold-reddened face.
The lean-to had disappeared. Only a few shattered boards marked the spot where it had stood before the wave struck.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE IRON BOX AGAIN