“That shout—a cry?”
“Wasn’t it the wind?”
“No, I am sure not. Come here. There it is again!”
Tom ran to the window. Both held their breath in suspense. Both started with intelligence and certainty now.
A fearful echoing cry rose far above the whistling, shrieking storm—the echo of a human voice.
“Help! help! help!”
“That’s no imagination,” declared Harry.
“No, someone is in trouble,” acquiesced Tom.
“It’s right down on the road running to the beach,” said Harry.
“Come on,” urged Tom definitely, “we must investigate this.”