“I’d like to uncork your precious bottle and drop it to the bottom of the river!”
Nevertheless, while her chum worked with the halyard, Louise held tightly to the little object which had caused all the trouble. Neither in shape nor size was the bottle unusual, but the paper it contained did arouse her curiosity. Though she never would have admitted it, she too wondered if it might bear an interesting message.
After pulling in the heavy, water-soaked sail, the girls climbed to the high side of the boat, trying by their combined weight to right it. Time and again they failed. At last, breathless, cold, discouraged, they admitted that the task was beyond their strength.
“Let’s shout for help,” Louise proposed, anxiously watching the distant shore lights.
“All right,” agreed Penny, “but I doubt anyone will hear us. My, we’re drifting down river fast!”
Decidedly worried, the girls shouted many times. There were no boats near, not even the motor craft they had observed a few minutes earlier. The swift current seemed to be swinging them directly toward Thompson’s bridge.
“A watchman always is on guard there night and day,” Penny commented, scanning the arching structure of steel. “If the old fellow isn’t asleep he should see us as we drift by.”
Louise was too cold and miserable to answer. However, she rather unwillingly held the blue bottle while Penny swam and tried to guide the overturned boat toward shore.
When the girls were fairly close to the bridge, they began to shout once more. Although they could see automobiles moving to and fro across the great archway, no one became aware of their plight.
Then as they despaired, there came an answering shout from above. A powerful beam of light played over the water, cutting a bright path.