“Boy! I’d like to have one more look at that plane!” Stew said eagerly.
“We’ll take a good look one of these times,” Jack assured him. “We’ve seen enough for one day.”
They stood there listening until the howl of the rapidly approaching mystery plane had reached its height, then, as on that other night, wavered and ceased.
“They’re here all right,” Stew said, as they paused on a tall, barren rock to look back. On the spot where the plane had been parked before, they caught the gleam of a wavering light.
When they reached the beach, ready to start on the last quarter mile of their walk, they paused once more. The tide was coming in. Above the rushing sound of the breakers on the beach they had caught a bump—bump—bump. After ten seconds of listening, they heard a loud crash.
“What’s that?” Stew asked in surprise.
“Don’t ask me. Let’s go see.” Flashlight in hand, Jack was clambering over the rocks.
“It’s a life raft,” he called back a moment later. “Waves threw it on the rocks. Come on! Let’s grab it before a bigger wave carries it back.”
It was a large raft, wet and slippery. They got a good ducking before they had the raft high and dry. They were soon to learn that it was worth their effort.
“It’s a Jap raft!” Stew exclaimed. He had discovered Japanese characters on a sealed metal cannister.