Once more Harriet Burrell placed a hand under Grace and began swimming with her.  The surf was behind them and was rapidly carrying them with it toward either the shore or the sea, Harriet neither knew nor thought which.  Had she not been still half dazed she might have smelled the vegetation on shore, not so very far from them, but of this she took no heed.  She swam, summoning all her strength to the task, knowing that she would not be able to keep up much longer.  Then all at once her hands touched bottom.  A moment more and she lay full length upon the wet, sandy bottom with the waves breaking over her.  Harriet groped with her hands and found that the water at arm’s length, ahead was but a few inches deep.  She sprang up with, a weak cry.

“Tommy, Tommy!  We’ve made it.”

“Fithh,” muttered Grace.

Harriet grasped her by the arms and began backing toward shore, dragging her companion with her.

The ground grew more and more solid as she backed.  There could be no doubt now.  They were rapidly getting to dry land.  Here, unlike the beach fronting the camp, the ground sloped gradually up away from the sea, then extended off among the trees a level stretch for some distance.

Tommy struggled a little when Harriet raised her to her feet.  The latter did not know which way camp lay from where they had landed, but she decided that it must be to the right of them.  In this surmise Harriet was correct, but the camp was farther away than she had thought.  She staggered along, half leading, half carrying, her companion, until, exhausted by her efforts, she sank down, Tommy with her.

“I can’t go another step; I’m tired out,” gasped Harriet.

“Ye-t-h,” agreed Grace weakly.

The two girls toppled over and stretched out on the wet ground, clasped in each other’s arms.  They were almost instantly asleep.  Tired nature could endure no more, and there they continued to lie and slumber through the remaining hours of the night.

Break of day still found patrol parties running along the shore, alternately searching the beach and gazing out to sea.  An occasional boat was sighted far out, but that was all.  No signs of the missing Meadow-Brook Girls had been found.  Ever since the dawn, however, Crazy Jane McCarthy had been taking account of the direction of the wind, which was blowing across the bay to the right of their camp.  She decided to investigate that part of the coast on her own account, going far beyond the farthest point that had been reached by any of the patrols.

Suddenly Crazy Jane uttered a yell that should have been heard at the camp, but was not.  She had discovered the girls lying on the beach—­still locked in each other’s arms.

Jane rushed to them, and, grabbing Tommy, began shaking her.  Harriet raised her heavy eyelids, sat up and rubbed her eyes.  Tommy tried to brush Jane aside.

“Fithh for breakfatht,” she muttered.