And for once Tully was right in a prediction. It took them all of the half hour before they sighted the sandy wastes of Inland Beach.
The summer colonists sheltered from the storm in their inadequately built bungalows sighted the bobbing heads of the swimmers as they battled their way against the tide. Speedily the beach was covered with people and the life-guards, summarily dragged from their bunks in their beach shanty, jumped drowsy-eyed into the life-boat and went into action.
Ten minutes later, the two were rushed up to the guards’ shanty and hurriedly divested of their dripping garments.
“We gotta ...” Skippy began as soon as he had a chance to talk.
“We thought we heard a siren,” Big Joe interposed. “Sure, it sounded like distress—there ain’t a doubt.”
“We heard it plain!” Skippy exclaimed anxiously. “An’ it came from the Channel—didn’t it, Big Joe, huh?”
“Sure and he’s right. ’Tis about where I figgered she was comin’ from,” Tully added.
“An’ we better start right out again!” Skippy said eagerly. “With this high wind....”
“A guy hasn’t much chance in the Channel,” interposed one of the guards bluntly. “I can tell you that before we start. And if it wasn’t that you say you’re sure you heard it, we wouldn’t take a chance ourselves. Even a big tub like ours ain’t a match for the Channel in a storm and high wind.”
“But we’re sure we heard it! Ain’t we, Big Joe?”