The paltry Peter began bellowing with deadly fear as the launch was headed away from him. Frank could not feel very charitable toward a fellow who, in the midst of peril, had left friends, probably relatives, to their fate. However, he started to change the course of the launch, when Pep, swinging one arm over the other in masterly progress like the fine swimmer he always had been, crossed the bow of the craft.
“I’ll take care of him,” shouted Pep to Frank, “and here’s Randy in the skiff.”
Frank saw Randy making for the spot, and as Pep grasped the side of the floating box the skiff came alongside.
“Hold on! Stop that other boat,” blubbered the young fellow. “I want to go ashore in a safe rig; I want to get to my aunt.”
“What did you leave her for?” demanded Pep, firing up.
“Huh! Think I want to get drowned?” whimpered the other.
Pep helped the scared youth into the skiff, drew himself over its edge, and directed just one remark to the rescued lad.
“Say!” he observed, indignantly. “I’d just like to kick you.”
CHAPTER III—SHORT OF FUNDS
Frank drove the motor launch shoreward with accuracy and speed. The stout lady had shrieked and acted as if half mad until she had been assured that Peter was safe. She had to see with her own eyes that Peter had been pulled into the rowboat with Randy and Pep. Then she collapsed again.