It was when at last she almost felt the little form slipping from her grasp that she heard the chug-chug of a motor boat and a cheery, loud voice sang out, "Hang on, Dolly; hang on! All right, we're coming!"
Dolly didn't dare look up, but with her last ounce of strength she hung on to the baby's white dress, which she had already torn to ribbons in her clutches. She heard the swift oncoming of the motor boat and feared lest its waves might even yet wash the little form away that she held so insecurely. She refused to lift her eyes as the sound of the engine grew louder and she felt a sickening fear of the first waves that might reach her from the motor boat.
To her dismay she felt her hold loosening. Her muscles were powerless longer to stand the strain of the baby's weight. She heard the motor and she felt, or imagined she did, the first of the rhythmic waves that would, she felt certain, as they grew stronger, tear the child from her grasp. In desperation she bunched up a portion of the little white dress and leaning her head down clinched it firmly in her teeth.
But even as she did so, she knew she could not hold it there. The wet cloth choked her, and the water dashed in her face and blinded her. A sickening conviction came to her that it was all over and in another instant little Gladys would fall away from her helpless hands, and drown.
But to her ears there came a sound of a human voice. Not a shout, not even a loud call, but a calm, pleasant voice close to her, that said: "All right Dolly! Let go. You have saved Gladys!"
Mechanically obeying, though scarcely knowing what she did, Dolly opened her teeth and as the baby slid from her numbed fingers the child was grasped by strong arms, and Mr. Rose's face appeared to Dolly's view. He had swum from the motor boat, and now holding Gladys in one arm he hung on to the row boat with the other.
"Take her in," he said, as he lifted the child over the edge into the boat.
The reaction brought back Dolly's lost nerve. Gladly she received the little form in her arms and in another moment Mr. Rose had himself scrambled, big and dripping, into the boat also.
"You little trump!" he exclaimed; "you brick! you heroine! Let me take the baby. Why, she's all right!"
Gladys, though she had been partly unconscious, while in the water, was really unharmed and as Mr. Rose held her to him she opened her eyes and smiled.