"Never mind, Mr. Satterlee. You'll be needed to stand by with me and help some of these venturesome ones aboard again."
Jack's start had been a good one, and he was a lusty swimmer.
He headed straight for the young woman, whose cries reached him across the water.
She could not swim, but her skirts, spreading, were buoying her up briefly. When these skirts became thoroughly soaked they would fall, enclosing her in an envelope of considerable weight.
The brother, on the other hand, could swim a little. He had begun to do so, instinctively, striking out for his sister.
Yet, before he could reach her, his buoyancy gave out, his limbs cramping.
With a despairing cry he sank.
"Tread water! Tread! Keep up until I reach you!" called Jack, clearly, as he fought on to reach the young woman.
Her skirts were beginning to fill and drop. She might have trod water, but she did not understand how it was done.
"Help me! I'm sinking!" she screamed, as she threw up her hands. Then some of the water washed into her mouth.