“Well, we’re not going to do it,” decided the manager. “It’s too risky, though I’d try it if it was to save life.”
He had hardly spoken, when the group of houses swirled about in the current. At an upper window of one of them appeared a woman, holding in her arms a baby. She stretched the child out toward those approaching her in small boats, as if appealing for help.
“Say, we’ve got to save her!” cried Blake.
“That’s right!” agreed the manager.
He headed the motor boat more directly for the floating dwellings, but he had to use caution, as they were entangled in a mass of logs, jagged timbers, and other debris, that made it difficult to approach.
And then, by some strange freak of fate, the houses swirled about again, and the woman and child could no longer be seen. But the dwellings remained upright, so it was fairly certain that the two were safe in the upper room—at least for a time.
Then the current carried the houses on some hidden sandbar, and they rose higher from the water, tilted to one side, and remained there.
“Look out!” cried Mr. Piper, as the manager continued to urge the motor boat onward. “We may go aground ourselves.”
“Can’t help it—we’ve got to try to save that woman and baby!” cried Mr. Ringold.
But there was no need for him to risk the Clytie, for the small boats, that had put out from shore came up then, and could more easily approach the stranded dwellings.