The poor boy was in such a state of mind that he was almost ready to cast himself into the sea and end it all. He was trying to think of what to do when, without warning, the raft was caught up by the waves and a few seconds later was grounded on the beach. It went back into the wallow of the sea, but the next wave carried it still higher.
“Ashore! Ashore!” cried Andy, in amazement. And then, before the raft could again slide back into the ocean, he took a flying leap forward, landing in water less than a foot deep and hobbled rapidly to a point of safety. As he did this, the raft was sucked back into the ocean and it disappeared from view into the gloom of the night and the storm.
Andy had no thought of looking around to see upon what sort of place he had landed. His one thought was of his cousins and the old sailor. He still held the flashlight in his hand, and now as rapidly as he could do so, he hobbled along the sandy beach, throwing the rays of the flashlight before him and calling loudly.
The first persons he encountered were Jack and the sailor. The young major sat on the sands panting for breath while beside him in a semi-conscious condition lay Ira Small.
“Jack!” was the eager cry. “Are you all right?”
“Is that you, Andy?” panted the young major. “Yes, I’m all right. But Small is pretty close to being all in. When the rope parted I thought sure we’d be drowned.”
“Where are the others?”
“I don’t know.”
Leaving the old sailor resting where he was, Jack and Andy continued the search along the sands. They used the searchlight, and presently heard a cry from a distance, and Fred and Randy appeared.
“Safe! Safe!” cried Andy, joyously. “Oh, how glad I am! I thought I was going to be all alone!”