“The engine’s dying,” said Tom. “Look, the nose is going under that big wave.”
With the motor dead, the Flyer lost way and buried its nose under a giant white-cap.
“He’s jumping out of the boat,” added Helen. “It’s shallow enough so he can wade in if he can keep his feet.”
Ignoring the increasing danger of the tornado, they ran across the sandy beach.
“Join hands,” cried Helen. “We can wade out and pull him the last few feet.”
Realizing that his sister would go on alone if he did not help her, Tom locked his hands in hers and they plunged into the shallow water.
Jim Preston, on the verge of exhaustion, staggered through the waves.
The Flyer, caught between two large rollers, filled with water and disappeared less than ten seconds after it had been abandoned.
The boatman floundered toward them and Tom and Helen found themselves hard-pressed to keep their own feet, for a strong undertow threatened to upset them and sweep them out into the lake.
Preston lunged toward them and they caught him as he fell.