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Page 37
But at last her splendid courage waned. She was sinking. The rescuer
would come too late! She thought of the circle of cheerful faces she
had left two hours before. Then--a cold, wet muzzle touched her face,
a pair of strong teeth seized hold of her blouse. Tom's setter dog,
Brownie, had managed to swim to his master. The animal's gallant
effort to save Tom inspired Madge to fresh effort, and once more she
took up the battle for her life and that of her friend.
CHAPTER XIII
LIFE OR DEATH?
"Is there no hope?" a voice asked despairingly.
"There is hope for a long time," answered Phyllis Alden quietly. "I
have heard my father say that people may sometimes be revived after
being in the water for many hours."
"She must live, or I can not bear it," declared Tom Curtis brokenly.
"Oh, won't some one go for a doctor? Can't you do something else for
her?"
"The man has gone for a doctor, Tom," soothed Mrs. Curtis. "Does your
arm pain you much?"
"Never mind my arm," groaned Tom. "She saved my life, mother, and now
she's dead." His voice broke.
"You mustn't say that," cried Phyllis sharply. "She _can't_ be dead."
"Phil," entreated Miss Jones, "let me take your place. I am sure I can
do what you are doing."
Phyllis shook her head. "I can't leave her."
Phyllis Alden knelt on the ground on one side of the unconscious girl.
Jack Bolling and an old fisherman knelt opposite her. The artist, Mr.
Brown, was trying to assist in restoring Madge to consciousness.
Phyllis Alden had been drilled in "first aid to the drowning" by her
father. Long experience with the sea had taught the sailor what to do.
But Madge had resisted all their efforts to bring her to consciousness.
She had battled too long with the merciless waves and her strength was
gone before the fisherman, coming home in his rowboat, had spied the
three figures at the moment when Madge was about to give up the fight.
He had hauled her and Tom inside his boat, and poor Brownie had somehow
managed to swim ashore.
On the beach the fisherman found an anxious group of picnickers
watching the storm with fearful eyes. Their fear was changed to
horror, however, when the fisherman deposited his ghastly freight on
the beach.
Fifteen minutes after being brought to shore Tom Curtis had returned to
consciousness. His first words were for Madge. Although Tom had been
a longer time in the water than his rescuer, his injured arm, which was
sprained, but not broken, had prevented him from making so fierce a
struggle; therefore he was far less exhausted than was his companion.
To those who watched anxiously for the first faint sign of returning
life it seemed hours since the fisherman had laid that still form on
the sand. It was none other than the old fisherman who discovered the
faint spot of color which appeared in Madge's cheeks, then disappeared.
After that the work of resuscitation went on more steadily than ever,
and slowly and painfully Madge came back to life. Strange noises
sounded in her ears. A gigantic weight was pressing upon her chest.
She tried to speak, but it was choking her, crushing her. She made an
heroic effort to throw it off, and then her eyes opened and dimly she
beheld her friends.
"She has come back to us." Phil's voice was ineffably tender. She
glanced up and her eyes met those of Jack Bolling. Forgetting her
dislike for him, she smiled. She remembered only that he was Madge's
cousin. Jack had always thought Phil ugly, but as he gazed into her
big, black eyes and white, serious face, he decided that she had more
character than any other girl he had ever met, and he would never
forget the splendid effort she had made to save his cousin.
As soon as the work of resuscitation was completed and Madge declared
out of danger, Mrs. Curtis insisted that on their return to the
mainland her son's brave little rescuer should be taken to the
Belleview Hotel, where she would be able to rest far more comfortably
than if carried on board the houseboat.
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