I caught his hand, and he snatched after the rope. But he plunged
wildly, nearly pulling me in, and scrambled up at once with one leg
wet to the hip.

"There's no bottom at all," he said queerly. "I believe the thing
rises straight out of the sea."

By that time the boat was ten feet away from the Monster. It circled
once, very quietly, as if it were trying to decide which way to go,
and then it drifted gently away toward the sea, with the rope
trailing along like a snake swimming beside it.

We stood there looking at the boat until it faded to a hazy speck,
and by that time the sun was really low. I don't think Greg
altogether realized what had happened. We'd played at being marooned
so often that I suppose he didn't quite see that this was different.

I hope that I shall never, never forget, as long as I live, what a
brick Jerry was through the whole of that nightmarish thing. I know
I never shall.

"Chris," he said, "you stay on this side. I'll go around to the
Headland side. Greg, you climb up on top. If any of us sees a boat
near enough to do any good, call the others, and we'll all yell and
wave things."

I'd never heard his voice so commanding, even in plays. He still had
on the cocked hat, and it looked very strange indeed. We scattered
as he ordered, and when the others had gone, I remembered that Greg
had on slippery-soled shoes instead of sneakers, which we usually