with changes of socks.
“Sorry I can’t give you all complete outfits,” Mrs. Holloway said regretfully.
“Don’t bother,” Mack told her. “Our folks will be coming for us in a few minutes anyhow.”
While the Cubs were waiting for the arrival of their parents, Mrs. Holloway brewed hot chocolate and made sandwiches. In the warm kitchen, the boys consumed great quantities of food, and recounted the story of their exciting pheasant hunt at Mr. Silverton’s farm.
“Say, shouldn’t Mr. Hatfield and Chips be getting back?” Dan presently asked, glancing at the kitchen clock. “They’ve been gone a long while, or so it seems to me.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” agreed Mr. Holloway. “Suppose we go down to the river again and see if the boat is coming.”
Leaving the others to dry out by the stove, Dan and Mr. Holloway went down to the water’s edge. The river lapped angrily at their feet. As far as they could see there was no sign of a returning boat.
“No use to worry,” Mr. Holloway said. “They’ll be coming along any minute—unless they should have run into a bad situation on the island.”
“The river’s still rising,” Dan observed. “Though not as fast as it was an hour ago.”
He and Mr. Holloway took a last look out across the river toward Rabb Island and then turned away. On the steps leading to the house, Dan felt a strange compulsion to pause and once more gaze over his shoulder.
As he did so, he saw several flashes of light from the direction of the island.
“Wait, Mr. Holloway!” he exclaimed. “I saw something just then!”
Excitedly, he indicated the direction from whence the flashes had come. “I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, sir.”
Once more the pair returned to the water’s edge, watching intently and waiting. Perhaps three minutes elapsed and then a dim light blinked on and off several times.
“That might be a flashlight!” Mr. Holloway said. “It’s certainly coming from Rabb Island or close to it.”
“Maybe Mr. Hatfield is trying to signal us! I know he had a flashlight in his pocket.”
“It looks like code,” Mr. Holloway declared as the signals again were seen. “Morse code. Can you read it, Dan?”
“No, but Brad can. He studied it in scouting last year.”
“Then get him! But be quick about it. Those flashes are becoming weaker.”
Requiring no urging, Dan darted up the stone steps two at a time, bursting into the Holloway kitchen.
“Come quick, Brad!” he urged. “Someone is signaling from Rabb Island in Morse code. We need you to read it.”
Not only Brad but all the Cubs poured out of the kitchen and ran down to the river.
The flashes of light still were visible from across the water.
“Can you make them out, Brad?” Mr. Holloway asked. “It’s important that we read the message. Mr. Hatfield and Chips may have run into trouble.”
“The flashes are so weak,” Brad said. “I can’t get it. Yes, now I can.”
“BOAT LOST. SEND—”
“Boat lost! Send help!” Dan finished as the flashes faded completely and did not reappear. “Chips and Mr. Hatfield must have reached the island, but they’re in trouble. We’ve got to get to them right away!”
CHAPTER 15
The Grand Howl
Alarmed for the safety of Chips, Mr. Hatfield and the dwellers of Rabb Island, Mr. Holloway immediately telephoned the Coast Guard station for assistance. He was assured that a rescue boat would be sent immediately.
“It will take them at least a half hour to reach the island,” the Den Dad reported to the Cubs. “Meanwhile, a lot may be happening there.”
Decidedly worried, Mr. Holloway and the Cubs established a vigil on the river front. The flashlight signals from Rabb Island were not repeated. This however, was no consolation.
“Mr. Hatfield’s flashlight battery probably is so weak it won’t operate,” Brad said.
“Say, can’t we borrow a boat from somewhere and row over there?” Dan demanded, made anxious by the long wait. “Dorman Clark keeps a motor boat.”
“But his place is two miles down stream,” Mr. Holloway reminded the Cubs.
“It would take us longer than thirty minutes to get there, launch the boat, and beat our way upstream to Rabb Island,” Brad objected.
Mr. Holloway nodded in agreement. “Our best bet is to wait here for the Coast Guard launch,” he decided, “even though it’s hard to remain idle.”
Little more was said by the Cubs although their anxiety was far from relieved. Wandering up and down the shore, they repeatedly checked the level of the water. Slowly but steadily, the river was creeping higher.
“Two years ago when the floods came, Rabb Island was almost entirely submerged,” Brad remarked, gazing anxiously at Mr. Holloway. “Do you think there is danger it might be covered again?”
“The river was at least two feet higher then, Brad. There’s no immediate danger of the entire island being flooded.”
“We’re not positive Mr. Hatfield and Chips reached the island, though the signals appeared to come from there,” Mack remarked. “If we interpreted the message right, something happened to the boat.”
“That’s what I can’t figure,” said Dan. “Do you suppose it sprung a leak?”
“Possible, but hardly likely,” the Den Dad replied. “That boat was tight as a drum. I caulked the seams myself.”
“Hey!” Brad suddenly shouted. “I see a light on the river!”
The other Cubs turned to gaze where he pointed. Far across the water they could see a bright, moving light.
“It’s the Coast Guard launch,” Mr. Holloway said in relief.
Plowing slowly upstream against the turbulent waters, the launch kept to midstream, churning on through the darkness toward Rabb Island.
Their minds now partially relieved, the Cubs nevertheless waited in suspense along the shore, wondering what might be amiss.
Finally, after at least another twenty minutes, the rescue craft was seen to put off from the island.
“She’s heading this way!” Brad observed.
A few minutes later, churning up spume, the launch halted well beyond the shallows opposite the submerged Holloway dock. In short order a small boat was lowered. Aboard were Sam Hatfield, Chips, Mrs.
