"Take it easy, Sis!" Tom added, as Sandy swayed and shuddered from the
shock of her recent ordeal.

Gently he made Sandy lie down and pillowed her head on a folded
tarpaulin provided by the sympathetic boatman. Phyl, though wan and
white-faced, was in somewhat better shape.

"Tom, we must get these girls home as soon as possible," Bud declared.

This, however, was not easily accomplished. The tidal wave had caused
devastation along the entire shore front. Many docks had been wrecked,
boats splintered like matchsticks, and buildings along the water
smashed.

When Tom's group reached Bud's convertible, parked near the yacht club
pier, they found the car completely waterlogged. Its electrical system
gave not even a faint sputter or spark.

"Oh, fine!" Bud groaned. "The crowning touch!"

Eventually ambulances and private cars began to arrive to transport the
injured. Tom, Bud, and the two girls were given a lift to the Swift home
where Sandy and Phyl were immediately put to bed by a worried Mrs.
Swift.

Downstairs, Tom switched on the TV set. A mobile camera crew from the
local station was scanning the water front and interviewing witnesses of
the disaster. To the two boys, the most interesting note came in a
statement by the announcer that a very slight earth tremor had been felt
in Shopton.