Closer, closer! It would strike them! It must! It was over them, gigantic, overwhelming! The girls nerved themselves for the shock that was to come. Grace closed her eyes—
And then—the steamer had passed. Betty had swerved at just the right moment to escape collision. The Gem was acting like a drunken man, swirling and reeling in the heavy wash of the great steamer.
They were heading straight toward the rocks, driven by the agitated waves. In another moment they would be dashed upon them—
“Betty!” screamed Grace. “We’ll be killed! The rocks!”
But the wail was drowned in the sudden roar of the motor. The Gem leaped forward, her nose swung around to meet the oncoming waves. Gallantly she plowed through the water which was lashed to a froth by the progress of the steamer, just grazing a jagged edge of rock, flinging spray over her bows, soaking the girls.
Then she was free of the channel, speeding for the safety of the open water. Betty, looking back over her shoulder, saw that the decks of the General Pershing were black with people who had rushed to the rail to see the fate of the motor boat.
The steamer had slowed down and half turned around as though intending to come to the rescue, but, seeing that this was unnecessary, she straightened once more, continuing on her way.
Betty’s hands trembled on the wheel. The reaction left her faint and sick. As though from a long distance she heard Mollie’s voice saying:
“Well, if that wasn’t a narrow squeak, I never saw one!”
“It was the Little Captain saved us,” said Amy. “She knew just what to do, as she always does.”