Jessie and Nell had no breath with which to reply to her. They were pulling at the top of their strength. The shore was not far away in reality. But it seemed a long way to pull with those heavy oars.
The rain swept landward and drove everybody, even the few bathers, to cover. The shallow water was torn again into whitecaps and a lot of spray came inboard as Jessie and Nell tried their very best to reach the strand.
Amy could do nothing but encourage them. There was no way by which she might aid their escape from the tempest. One thing, she did nothing to hinder! Even she was in no mood for “making fun.”
In fact, this tempest was an experience such as none of the three girls had seen before. Jessie and Nell were well-nigh breathless and their arms and shoulders began to ache.
“Let me exchange with one of you, Nell! Jess!” cried Amy, her voice half drowned by the noise of wind and rain.
“Stay where you are!” commanded Jessie, from the bow, as her chum started to come forward. “You might tip us over!”
“Sit down!” sang the cheerful Nell. “Sit down, you’re rocking the boat!”
“But I want to help!” complained Amy.
“You did your helping when you got rid of that rudder,” returned Nell, comfortingly. “Do be still, Amy Drew!”
“How can one be still in such a jerky, pitching boat?” gasped the other girl. “Do—do you think you can reach land, Jessie Norwood?”