SUSPENSE
“What’ll we do?” Skippy cried. “Gee, what’ll we do?”
“We’ll be swimmin’ for it, kid,” Big Joe answered, his face ashen and
drawn. “Inland Beach’s nearest—we’ll be swimmin’ it in a half hour,
takin’ it aisy like.”
“_Easy!_ In this water and wind?”
“Skippy, don’t be worryin’. Sure and I ain’t goin’ to see ye go down.
I’ll be keepin’ ye up if it takes me life.”
Suddenly Skippy turned, pleading. Big Joe knew and his eyes dropped
before the boy’s accusing gaze.
“And what can I be doin’ about the _Davy Jones_ now, kid!” he protested
“I _got_ ye to be thinkin’ about now.... Sufferin’ swordfish!” He
groaned.
“Then we gotta swim to Inland Beach as fast as we can, Big Joe,” Skippy
said, master of himself once more. “We gotta get help right away for the
_Davy Jones_!”
“Sure, sure,” the big fellow moaned, “anythin’, kid, only don’t be
lookin’ at me so accusin’. Did I know it was goin’ to happen like this?
Sufferin’ swordfish!”
“C’mon, Big Joe—_c’mon_!”
They had no sooner jumped clear of the boat than she sank out of sight.
A terrific gale blew them along and Skippy kept close to Tully, buoyed
up by the thought that he must keep going in order to get help for the
_Davy Jones_.
And for once Tully was right in a prediction. It took them all of the
half hour before they sighted the sandy wastes of Inland Beach.
The summer colonists sheltered from the storm in their inadequately
built bungalows sighted the bobbing heads of the swimmers as they
battled their way against the tide. Speedily the beach was covered with
people and the life-guards, summarily dragged from their bunks in their
beach shanty, jumped drowsy-eyed into the life-boat and went into
action.
Ten minutes later, the two were rushed up to the guards’ shanty and
hurriedly divested of their dripping garments.
“We gotta ...” Skippy began as soon as he had a chance to talk.
“We thought we heard a siren,” Big Joe interposed. “Sure, it sounded
like distress—there ain’t a doubt.”
“We heard it plain!” Skippy exclaimed anxiously. “An’ it came from the
Channel—didn’t it, Big Joe, huh?”
“Sure and he’s right. ’Tis about where I figgered she was comin’ from,”
Tully added.
“An’ we better start right out again!” Skippy said eagerly. “With this
high wind....”
“A guy hasn’t much chance in the Channel,” interposed one of the guards
bluntly. “I can tell you that before we start. And if it wasn’t that you
say you’re sure you heard it, we wouldn’t take a chance ourselves. Even
a big tub like ours ain’t a match for the Channel in a storm and high
wind.”
“But we’re sure we heard it! Ain’t we, Big Joe?”
“Sure we did that!” Tully said emphatically.
And so they started for the Channel.
The wind died down shortly after they had lost sight of Inland Beach.
Presently the rain ceased and after a few moments’ struggle with storm
clouds, the sun came smiling through.
Skippy smiled too, hopeful that it augured well for the object of their
search. Tully relaxed and took a cigarette that one of the guards
offered him. He talked little and kept his eyes ahead.
They reached the Channel in a half hour and for a full hour they
searched it up and down. Skippy kept his eyes on the water; he dared not
let the guards see the hopelessness written there should his glance
chance to meet Tully’s.
“Sure we _couldn’t_ be dreamin’ we heard a siren, now could we?” Tully
pleaded when the guards announced their intention of returning to the
beach.
“You guys didn’t seem to be so sure you heard any at all when we first
got you out of the water,” one of the men reminded them.
“Sure and we were kind o’ all in from the breaks we got,” Tully
explained. His voice sounded hollow and weary.
“Well, we don’t hear no siren now,” said the other guard, “and we’ve
been up and down the Channel. If there _was_ any guy in distress, maybe
he’s been swept out to sea. And we can’t go hunting that far for you
fellers. We’ll send out word to the coast guard anyway when we get back
just to be on the safe side. They’ll find the tub if it’s still afloat.”
“An’ if there was any siren signaling distress when that high wind first
come up,” said the first guard, “she’s most likely screeching now for to
get into Davy Jones’ locker. Who knows?”
Skippy and Big Joe would have given their lives at that moment to know.