The beach clear up to the boardwalk was a seething pool now. Whenever a big swell came in it dashed over the walk and beat against the building lining it.
“See here,” cried Randy in a great state of perturbation, “there isn’t any danger of the boardwalk going; is there?”
“Part of it is gone already down near the slump,” declared Frank. “Look, you can see the beach from here. I hope the waves won’t upset any of the buildings.”
“They can’t, right here, Durham,” declared Jolly promptly. “You see, there’s a drop from us inland. The water will drain off, if it doesn’t come in too heavy.”
“I’ll bet there’s trouble over on the flats,” suggested Randy. “See the lights moving around.”
“Lock the doors, Pep,” spoke Jolly. “We’ll take a look around and see just how bad things are.”
It was no easy task maintaining their footing on the boardwalk, for it was slippery and at places gave where it had been undermined. Once a big wave swept over the exploring party and threw them in a heap against a building. People came running past them from the lower level of the Midway.
They could hear the life saving corps yelling orders and the storm bell sounding out constantly in the distance. It was as they came to the street that cut down past the National, that Frank and his friends paused to survey a scene of great excitement.
The street, as has been already noted, dropped away from the boardwalk to a depression fully twenty feet below its level. This made it a natural outlet, not only for the waves that beat up over the boardwalk, but also for what drained laterally on both sides.
“Why, it’s like a regular water course,” declared Frank. “I say, there’s someone needing help.”