Part 26 (1/2)

”That!”

”Why, it--it looks like----”

”Come on. Let's find out.” And Billie ran to the thing that looked like a large piece of driftwood washed up on the sand by the heavy sea.

And as she reached it she drew in her breath sharply and brushed a hand across her eyes to make sure she was not dreaming. On the thing that was not a piece of driftwood at all, but looked like a sort of crudely and hastily constructed raft, were lashed three small, unconscious little forms.

”Girls, look!” she almost screamed above the shrill wind. ”Do you see them, too?”

”Why--why, they are children!” cried Laura. ”Oh, Billie, do you suppose they're alive?”

”I don't know,” said Billie, dropping to her knees beside the three pitiful little figures. Two of them were girls, twins evidently, and the third was a smaller child, a boy. Something in their baby att.i.tudes, perhaps their very helplessness, stung Billie to sudden action.

”Help me get them loose!” she cried to the other girls, who were still staring stupidly. ”I don't know whether they're dead or not yet. But they will be if we don't hurry. Oh, girls, stop staring and help me!”

Then how they worked! The slippery wet rope that bound the little forms was knotted several times, and the girls thought they must scream with the nightmare of it before they got the last knot undone.

”There! At last!” cried Billie, flinging the rope aside and trying to lift one of the little girls. She found it surprisingly easy, for the child was pitifully thin. She staggered to her feet, holding the little form tight to her.

Laura and Vi each took one of the children and Connie offered to help whoever gave out first. Then they started back to the lighthouse. Luckily for them, the wind was at their backs, or they never could have made the trip back.

When they reached the Point they found that most of the crowd had dispersed. Only a few stragglers remained to talk over the tragedy in awed and quiet whispers.

These stared as the girls with their strange burdens fought their way toward the door of the lighthouse. Some even started forward as though to offer a.s.sistance, but the girls did not notice them.

Through the window Billie could see Uncle Tom standing before his mantelpiece, head dropped wearily on his arm. Then Connie opened the door and they burst in upon him.

”Oh, Uncle Tom!” she gasped. ”Please come here, quick!”

CHAPTER XXIV

THREE SMALL SURVIVORS

It did not take Uncle Tom very long, experienced as he was, to bring the three children back to consciousness. As it was, they had been more affected by the cold and the fright than anything else, for the raft, crude as it was, had kept them above the surface of the waves and saved their lives.

As the girls bent over them eagerly, helping Uncle Tom as well as they could, the faint color came back to the pinched little faces, and slowly the children opened their eyes.

”Oh, they are alive, bless 'em,” cried Billie, jumping to her feet. But the quick action seemed to terrify the children, and they cried out in alarm. In a minute Billie was back on her knees beside them, looking at them wonderingly.

”Why, what's the matter?” she asked, putting out her hand to the little boy, who shrank away from her and raised an arm before his eyes. ”Why, honey, did you really think Billie would hurt a nice little boy like you?”

But all three children had begun to cry, and Billie looked helplessly at her chums.

Uncle Tom had spread a large rug on the floor and had laid the children on it while he worked over them. Up to this time he had been on his knees beside the girls, but now he got to his feet and looked down at them soberly.

”Somebody's been mistreating 'em,” he said, his eyes on the three cowering, pathetic little figures. ”Poor little mites--poor little mites!

Found 'em on a sort of raft, you say? Washed up by the waves?”