“You don’t suppose we shall have to stay here until daylight, do you?” she demanded.
“Too bad we haven’t your radio—or some radio—Jessie,” said Amy. “If we could send out a cry for help——”
“Hey!” grumbled Burd Alling. “You’ll have to send out any wireless like that with your lungs. Come on! Let’s all shout. Maybe somebody on shore will hear us.”
“Maybe we can make the folks in the other boats hear,” Jessie suggested.
They lifted their voices in unison and shouted. Again and again the cry for help ricochetted across the water. But not a sound was returned. There had been so much singing and laughing and shouting on the lake this evening that none of the dwellers along shore would suspect that there was a party in need of rescue.
“You don’t suppose the far end of this log is fastened to the shore, do you, Burd?” suggested Darry.
“Not much. I can see the trees now. We’re forty yards or more out, I bet. And this log is drifting out into the lake all the time.”
“That’s what I thought,” agreed the older fellow.
“We might swim it,” Burd said.
“But Jocklin Point is an awfully lonely place. We’d never get through that tangle of woods,” said Jessie quickly.