"Put it around your waist, Kit. They can never tow us in this storm." Bet's teeth were chattering now.
Kit quickly made a loop and fastened it around Bet's waist. "Now Bet, you're safe," she cried. "And I'll hold on to you."
The motor boat had drifted away from them but again Bob brought it alongside. Another rope was flung toward them, but the wind sent it flying backward.
"If I could only have jumped for it!" thought Kit, but she knew that any movement might mean destruction.
Four times Phil threw the rope before Kit caught it and fastened it about herself.
Bet, knowing that they were safe, may have relaxed her efforts, or perhaps the very end of her strength had been reached. The canoe took a wave side-on and turned completely over.
Kit struggled, gulped and swallowed as the cold water covered her and she felt herself being drawn toward the boat. But Bet did not remember anything of the plunge.
They were still in danger, for it needed Bob and Phil to raise the two girls over the side of the launch, and it looked at times as if the motorboat would be swallowed up. The little canoe was left, to be tossed about on the waves.
When the motor again purred and the boat had headed toward the shore, the two girls were in the bottom of the launch. Bet lay there deathly white and showed no sign of life. Kit was sobbing and shaking and was no possible help to the boy, who was trying to revive the still figure of the plucky girl.
The wind subsided as quickly as it had come and by the time the motor reached the dock, the storm was over. Phil lifted Bet in his arms and carried her to the sand. Uncle Nat and Auntie Gibbs had been called and were there to help.