“Daddy!  Daddy!  Come quick!” she called to her husband, who was in the bungalow, talking to Cousin Tom.  “Margy and Mun Bun are in a boat on the inlet and are being carried out to sea.  Hurry!”

Daddy Bunker also hurried.

Mother Bunker was the first to get down to the shore, where she could see what had happened.

At first all she noticed was Russ jumping up and down in his excitement, and, at the same time, pointing to something on the water.  Mrs. Bunker looked at what Russ was pointing to and saw that it was Cousin Tom’s smaller rowboat, and, also, that in it were her two little children, Mun Bun and Margy!

And the boat was being carried by the tide down the inlet toward the sea.  The inlet, when the tide was flowing in or out, was like a powerful river, more powerful in its current than Rainbow River at home in Pineville, where the six little Bunkers lived.

“Oh, Margy!  Mun Bun!” cried Mrs. Bunker, holding out her hands to the children.

“Oh, what will happen to them?” went on Mother Bunker, as she reached Russ standing near the edge of the inlet.  She could see the boat, with Margy and Mun Bun in it, drifting farther and farther away.  “Oh, I must get them!”

Mrs. Bunker was just about to rush into the water, all dressed as she was.  She had an idea she might wade out and get hold of the boat to bring it back.  But the inlet was too deep for that.

“Wait a minute!  Don’t go into the water, Mother!  We’ll get the children back all right!” cried Daddy Bunker, as he ran up beside his wife and caught her by the arm.

“How?” asked Mrs. Bunker, clinging to her husband.

“We’ll go after them in another boat,” said Mr. Bunker.  “Here comes Cousin Tom.  He and I will go after the children in the other boat.  You sit down and wait for us.  We’ll soon have them back!”

Cousin Tom had two boats tied at the pier in the inlet.  One was the large one in which they had gone crabbing a few days before, and the other was the small one in which Margy and Mun Bun had gone drifting away.

Daddy Bunker, left his wife sitting on the sand and ran to loosen the large boat.  But Cousin Tom cried: 

“Don’t take that.  It will be too slow and too heavy to row.”

“What shall we take?” asked the children’s father.

“Here comes a motor-boat.  I’ll hail the man in that and ask him to go after the drifting boat for us,” Cousin Tom answered.

“All right,” agreed Mr. Bunker, as he looked up and saw coming down the inlet, or Clam River, a speedy motor-boat, in which sat a man.  This would be much faster than a rowboat.

Just then Mrs. Bunker, who had jumped up from the sand where she had been sitting for a moment, and who was running toward her husband, cried: 

“Oh, see!  The children are standing up!  Oh, if they should fall overboard!”

Margy and Mun Bun, who, at first, had been sitting down in the drifting boat, were now seen to be standing up.  And it is always dangerous to stand up in a small boat.