The boxes were washing back and forth at the water’s edge and Bill’s first act was to haul them in.
“Well, the government’s precious loot is safe,” he said grimly. “Are you able to walk?”
“I—I guess so.”
“Then, let’s get going. We’ll freeze if we don’t.”
He gathered up the boxes and looped them from his shoulders, rose to his feet and held out a hand. Dorothy took it, scrambled up and stood for a moment swaying unsteadily.
“The end of a perfect d-day—” she tried to grin, her teeth chattering with cold.
“I don’t think!” replied Bill unenthusiastically, and helped her to get rid of the heavy life belt.
“Know where we are?” she inquired when he had dropped the belts on the sand.
“Not precisely. But if we keep going we ought to strike a lifesaving station or something—come on.”
Dorothy groaned. “I suppose I must, but—gee whiz—I sure want to rest.”