They turned and looked about them. They seemed to be on the end of the island, for beyond them at a little distance the waves raced by a sandy point. To their right, as they faced inland, a beach stretched away until lost in the blur of the beating rain. In front of them was beach grass, flattened under the wind, and beyond, on higher ground, a few stunted cedars and underbrush.
“We’ll have to find one,” said Nelson. “Two of us had better stay here, and two go and hunt. Who’ll stay?”
“I will, if you say so,” answered Tom.
“All right, Tom and I’ll stay,” said Nelson. “You and Dan see what you can find. Maybe there’s a path or a road up there; looks as though there might be. You’d better put your coats on.”
“Can’t get any wetter,” answered Dan, shivering. They untied the bundle, which had come safely ashore, and pulled their dripping coats on. Then, with Barry beside them, they started off, and in a minute were out of sight.
It was weary waiting there on the beach with the rain pelting them, and the wind chilling them through and through.
“If we only had a fire,” chattered Tom.
Every now and then they faced the wind, and tried to make the boy in the sloop hear them. But it is doubtful if he did, for their words seemed to be blown back into their faces. Nelson looked at his watch. The soaking had not affected it, and it proclaimed the time to be twenty minutes past four.
“It’ll be dark before very long,” he said, “if this storm keeps up.”