Peters turned suddenly and savagely on Frank: "Well, what are you going to do, stand there like a statue and see us all drown? Oh, do something!" he wailed.
Frank was standing as rigidly as a statue, indeed. He was looking out over the dark stretch of tossing water. His face was toward the shore. He had hardly heard Peters' last cry for help, so intently was he gazing and deliberating.
"There's only one way," he said at last, turning to Jimmy.
"And what's that?" was the query.
"Swim it," replied Frank steadily.
Even Jimmy started back appalled, and Peters, who was stepping nervously around, sank again on the rocks, weak at the very suggestion.
"It must be a mile," said Jimmy.
"Yes," said Frank, measuring the distance to the lights, which twinkled along shore like far-off stars, "it is more than that. The bay curves well in off Seawall."
"It is a chance," said Jimmy, "but a slim one."