Lawford came up as the sloop swept by on her new tack, his smile as broad as ever. He blew loudly and then shouted:
"Going—-too—fast—for—me! Whoa! Back up a little, ladies, and let me climb aboard."
"Well, of all the crazy critters!" the "able seaman" declared. "Stand by with that boathook, Miss Lou, and see if you can harpoon him."
Louise swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to laugh too. To tell the truth, the accident to Lawford Tapp had frightened her dreadfully at the moment it occurred.
Betty Gallup put over the wheel and the Merry Andrew, still under propulsion of the bursting squall, flew about, almost on her heel. Louise, who was shielding her eyes from the flying spray under the sharp of her hand and watching the head and shoulders of Lawford as he plowed through the jumping waves with a great overhand stroke, suddenly shrieked aloud:
"Oh, Betty!"
"What's the matter? Land sakes!"
Both saw the peril threatening the swimmer. The light skiff at the end of the long painter whipped around when the line tautened. As Betty cried out in echo to Louise's wail, the gunnel of the skiff crashed down upon Lawford's head and shoulders.
"Oh! Oh! He's hurt!" cried Louise.
"He's drowned—dead!" ejaculated Betty Gallup. "Here, Miss Lou, you take the wheel——"