The boys were wearing bathing suits under their clothes and it only took a moment for them to strip.
To add to the distress of the girls, Smiley Jim had arrived and was racing up and down the sand barking in a long-drawn-out, mournful howl toward the river. Shirley caught him by the collar.
"That's no way to do, Smiley. You can't help Bet that way! Quiet down!" The dog was trembling in every limb. He'd ceased his howling when the boys started out into the water.
With long-reaching arm strokes they cut the waves and sped toward the launch that was moored a short distance from the shore.
It took only a few minutes to start the motor and as it headed toward the channel, Phil said, "There they are, they're all right."
Then the rain came up the river as if it were a great grey curtain shutting out the river and shore.
"Hurry Bob!" shouted Phil. "They're gone."
A moment later, he called again: "No, there they are. Go down stream a little Bob, the current is running so strong that Bet can't keep it on a straight course."
"We'll never get them in this storm!" groaned Bob, as the rain again shut out the sight of the canoe. Drifting downward with the current, they worked outward toward the middle of the river.
A flash of lightning pierced the grey sheet.