Suddenly Billie saw the strange man throw up both hands with a loud cry, which sounded very much like “Sharks!” and start to shore as fast as he could go.
“Oh! Oh!” cried Genevieve, covering her face with her hands.
Some twenty yards beyond Timothy they could just make out the ugly square nose and upstanding fin of a big fish sticking above the water.
“Hurry, Timothy, hurry,” called the girl in an agony of anxiety.
“I’m all right,” he answered faintly, but each movement seemed to be weaker than the last and suddenly he sank beneath the waves.
While Genevieve was calling for help toward the now almost empty beach, Billie made a running dive off the raft, and with long, clean strokes, swam for the red head which appeared on the surface once more.
CHAPTER III.—TIMOTHY’S DROWNING.
When one is swimming in a great hurry minutes change to hours and yards to miles, and to a small human speck in the ocean the sky overhead appears like an immense arc. As the eyes of the human speck follow the horizon line, many things seem to be happening in the circular zone which girdles the whole world.
It was only an instant that Billie had turned her eyes away from Timothy’s head, and yet in that moment she saw first the shark, more frightened than they were, making for the open sea; then a seagull swooping down on the water. Then she saw Genevieve standing irresolutely on the raft; next a line of sea, and finally the reckless stranger who had enticed Timothy to race for the ball and left him to his fate. He was still swimming desperately, as if a whole army of sharks was at his heels.
“Coward,” thought Billie, as she cut through the waves as neatly and swiftly as the prow of a little ship. She was swimming on one side, far down, making a wide circular motion with her right arm.