A pain shot through her head, she reeled dizzily and toppled over in a dead faint; but before she lost consciousness she heard a voice that sounded many miles away exclaim:
“Why, Shirley Willing! What are you doing here, and in this condition?”
When Shirley recovered consciousness she lay upon a little bed, and several figures were bending over her. One she recognized in a moment, and addressed it in a low voice and with a smile on her face.
“Mabel!” she exclaimed. “Where am I and what is the matter with me?”
But before the other could reply, the thrilling experience she had been through came back to her like a flash; and springing from the bed, unmindful of the sharp pain that shot through her head, she exclaimed:
“The Hendersons! Quick! Have you a boat?”
“There, there,” said the girl whom she had addressed as Mabel. “You are a little overwrought. Lie down again, dearie.”
Shirley shook off the other’s hand.
“The Hendersons,” she explained, “are marooned on a little hill in the midst of the raging flood. They must be helped quickly. Mrs. Henderson is ill and unless she is given shelter at once may die from exposure.”
Immediately all in the room began to ask questions, but Shirley, raising a hand, stopped them. Then, briefly, she explained the situation.