finding it useless, managed to turn on his back and float.

Still keeping her hand on the tiller, Madge strained her eyes to watch
his every movement. "Try to make it, Tom," she shouted encouragingly.
"You've only a little farther to swim. Come on; I'll help you into the
boat."

"I'm afraid I can't, Madge," he called faintly. "I've hurt my
shoulder. I can't swim."

The girl at the tiller bent forward to catch the sound of her friend's
voice. Then she answered with the bravery of despair: "You must keep
on floating. You are not going to drown. I am coming after you."

At the same instant Madge divested herself of her coat, shoes and the
skirt of her suit and poised herself for a dive into the angry water.
"Keep the head of the boat to the wind," was her curt command to the
stranger, "I am going after Mr. Curtis."

"You're crazy!" shouted the stranger, leaping to his feet. "You can
never save the man in such a sea as this. You'll both be drowned!"

His tardy expostulation fell upon unheeding ears. Madge was in the
water and swimming toward Tom. Expert swimmer that she was, she knew
that she was risking her own life. The tide was against her, and even
though she did reach Tom before he sank again, it would be hard work to
support him and swim back to the boat in such a heavy sea.

The sky was now dark, the waves had grown larger, and a pelting rain
had begun to beat down in Madge's face. Tom had risen to the surface