“Now for a little pleasure swim,” said Nyoda, striking out.  While they were swimming away the storm broke the second time; the thunder sounded in their ears like cannon and the vivid lightning flashes lit up the shore for miles around.  By its light they could see that they were nearing one of the long stone piers.  Climbing up on this, they rested until they had their breath back again, although it was a rather exciting rest, for the waves were going high over the pier and threatened to wash them off every moment.  The shore line along here was peculiarly rugged and forbidding.  Instead of a beach, high cliffs rose perpendicularly out of deep water and afforded nowhere a landing place.  The girls swam slowly and easily, fearing to spend their strength before they could reach shallow water, often turning over to float and gain a few moments’ rest in this way.  The waves were very rough and tossed them about a great deal, but the wind was west and they were swimming toward the east, and as the natural current of the lake was eastward toward Niagara, their progress was helped rather than retarded by the force of the water.

The storm abated and the sun began to rise over the lake, gilding the crest of the waves.  Still no sign of a beach.  “I can’t go much further,” said Gladys faintly.  Both girls were nearly spent when Nyoda spied a strip of yellow in the distance which put new strength into them.  Putting forth their last efforts, they headed toward it.  Trembling with weakness and breathless from being buffeted about so much, they gained the narrow beach and with a great sigh of relief rolled out onto the sand.

CHAPTER XVI.

A SCHEME AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

We will now have to take our readers away from the Winnebagos and their affairs for a few moments and admit them into the private office of Mr. Rumford Thurston.  Mr. Thurston, dealer in stocks and bonds and promoter of investments, was closeted with his business associate and intimate friend, Mr. Nathan Scovill.  An earnest discussion was in progress, the theme of which was apparently drawn from a paper which was spread out on the desk between them.

“I tell you, it’s the chance of a lifetime,” said Mr. Scovill.  “We can clean up a cool half million on it before the public wakes up, and when they do we can take a trip to Hawaii or Manila for our health until the business is forgotten.  You put in ten thousand now and you’ll be on easy street for the rest of your life.”

“But I tell you, I haven’t the ten thousand to put in,” answered Mr. Thurston crossly.  “I haven’t one thousand.  That last deal finished me.”

“Borrow some,” said Mr. Scovill impatiently.

“Can’t get any more credit,” said Mr. Thurston gloomily.  “The office furniture is attached already.”

Mr. Scovill scowled.  Then he went carefully over the ground again, dwelling on the ease of making money without working for it by the simple method of swindling the public, and enlarging on the joys of life as a rich man.  “Think, man,” he said in conclusion, “think what you’re missing!”