Like a sprite, the girl in the yellow slicker and rubber hat made for the highest end of the boat, measured her distance to the Chelton, and while Kent and Cora strained to hold the rope steady, sprang.
It was not the distance, which was but a few feet, but the uncertainty of the boats’ motion that made the leap perilous. But Freda landed safely in the Chelton.
“None too soon!” gasped Cora, pressing her arms around the wet oilskin coat. “See where they have gotten to now!”
The boats had drifted apart again. The girls clung to Freda as if she had really brought them safely to shore, instead of adding her own weight to their burden, but it was the message from land that reassured them.
“Isn’t it dreadful!” moaned Lottie, still trembling from her collapse.
“No!” replied Freda, cheerfully. “It isn’t so bad out there. But we knew what it was on this bar, and could tell by the wind just about where you were drifting. If Jack will let me take the wheel I will follow Denny’s orders and ride into it. Then we can go around the island—and see a blue sky!”
“Blue sky!” came the exclamation from the girls in unison.
“Certainly. But I must have the wheel, Jack.”
Having satisfied them that she could run the boat, Freda changed places with Jack, while Cora let her brother take up her watch beside Kent. Then Cora went to the steering wheel with Freda.
“Don’t be afraid,” the latter said. “I have ridden out worse storms than this with Denny. They have a way of turning things upside down, but you are all right as long as you can keep well on top.”