“I—don’t—know——”
“I wish we had put up a flag—a signal of some kind,” Agnes continued to complain. “Oh, Ruthie! If they have gone right by without seeing us! I would have sacrificed my sports skirt for a flag and worn—worn a gunny sack, if necessary! This is too mean.”
“Wait, Aggie!” exclaimed Ruth, still staring at the boat Agnes had first spied. “There—there is something the matter with that boat. What propels it?”
“It is a motor-boat like ours, of course,” rejoined Agnes quickly.
“It is not moving fast enough for that. And there is no sail. And I cannot see anything moving on that boat.”
“For goodness’ sake, Ruthie! Is it a boat sailing all by itself?” Agnes demanded.
“Exactly. That is what it is. The boat has broken away——”
“Well, now!” gasped Agnes. “Isn’t that strange? And it’s a motor-boat like the Isobel.”
“Oh, Aggie!” cried Ruth, turning to her with a frightened face now. “Aggie! It is our boat! It’s broken away, somehow. We are now really cast away on this island. What will become of us?”
Agnes Kenway felt immense dismay at the possibility of the truth of her sister’s statement. But Ruth was so utterly despairing that the younger girl felt she must comfort her.