She had nearly given up hope when she caught sight of a struggling form not far from the floating canoe. A hand emerged, only to sink again beneath the surface. Anne could not swim!
The realization drove Madge to even greater exertion. The next powerful sweep of her oars carried her near the struggling girl. She thrust out an oar, but Anne either failing to see it or lacking strength to grasp it, fluttered her hands weakly and went under again.
Without an instant’s hesitation, Madge kicked off her pumps and plunged over the side of the skiff. Three long crawl strokes carried her to the place where Anne had submerged. Bending sharply at the waist she shot down in a surface dive. Groping about under water, she searched frantically for the body and could not find it. She was forced to the top for air but she went bravely down again and this time her hand touched Anne’s hair. She grasped it firmly, lifting the girl to the surface.
Anne was only semi-conscious but as she gulped air it gave her strength to renew her struggles. Madge hooked her firmly under the jaw and did not relax her hold. The waves beat down mercilessly upon the girls and each time the avalanche of water poured over their heads. Anne fought like a wild thing. Madge, encumbered by heavy clothing, found the battle exhausting.
“Hold your breath when you see a wave coming,” she advised. “Don’t struggle or we’ll both drown.”
Anne relaxed slightly and Madge managed to shift her into position for a safe carry. Using a powerful scissors kick and a one arm pull, she towed her slowly toward the skiff which had been carried some distance away.
Madge was nearly exhausted when they finally reached the boat and it discouraged her to know that the most difficult part of the rescue lay ahead. They must climb aboard the skiff, and unless they balanced it perfectly it would upset. The only alternative was to cling to the side until help came.
Madge glanced hopefully toward shore but she could not even see the Brady lodge and the rain likewise hid the lookout from view. Even should the storm abate, it might be fifteen minutes or an hour before Uncle George or Old Bill started out to search. She doubted that they could hold out many minutes in the cold water.
“You must do exactly as I say,” she ordered Anne. “I’ll swim to the other side of the boat. When I give the word we must both climb in at the same time. If we don’t work together, the boat will upset and then we’ll be in a real pickle!”
“Oh, I can’t, I can’t,” Anne half sobbed.