Without waiting for an answer, she was off like a shot with Mollie and Grace close behind.
They had not missed quiet little Amy, and if they had, would probably have thought she had gone for an unusually long swim. And now had come her frantic cry for help.
"What is the matter?" Betty cried over and over to herself, as she put all her strength into the long, powerful strokes. Amy was a splendid swimmer, almost as good as Betty herself.
For one terrible moment the thought of sharks dashed into Betty's mind and she shuddered. But the next minute reason reasserted itself and she realized that sharks had never been seen on this coast. Baby ones, perhaps, but not the man-eating variety.
She raised her head from the water and gazed in the direction of the vivid cap. Yes, there it was! Thank heaven there was still time.
"Amy! Amy!" she called, "I'm coming. Just hold on for a minute, Honey. I'm almost to you."
No answer came back to her, and when she looked again for the cap she found to her horror that it was gone.
"Oh," she moaned, "I'm too late. I'm too late. Oh, Amy, Amy, just another minute—just a little minute—" she redoubled her efforts and suddenly gave a shout of joy.
There was the cap again, almost under her hand. In her frenzy of haste she had covered the distance with almost unbelievable speed.
Her shout seemed to rouse Amy, who had been struggling feebly to keep her head above the water, and the girl turned a terror-stricken face to her.