The two girls continued to stand perfectly still on the sand, gazing at the retreating autogiro, which apparently was flying out farther over the ocean, and circling about in a strange manner.

"Why don't they fly towards the coast—towards Georgia?" demanded Dot, in bewilderment.

Linda took her spyglasses out of her pocket, and squinted through them at the plane.

"I see a boat!" she exclaimed. "It must be that yacht the gang had arrangements with—to pick up the stuff they steal.... Yes, and that's another island.... Look, Dot—see if I'm right."

The other girl took the glasses, and confirmed Linda's statement.

"Yes, it is.... And the Ladybug's landing on it.... Two people getting out—must be Susie and the Doc—and boarding the boat.... Linda! They're leaving the plane on the island!"

It was true indeed; taking turns at the glasses, the girls watched the yacht push off into the ocean.

"And here we are—and there's the Ladybug!" remarked Linda, grimly. "Just out of reach! The question is—how to get to her."

"Swim," suggested Dot.

"Maybe you could, Dot. But I'd be afraid of sharks."

"No, I don't think I'll try it either. Besides, the currents probably awfully strong."

"Oh, if Jackson and Hal would only rescue us now!" lamented Linda. "I wouldn't treat them a bit coolly."

The truth of that situation flashed upon Dot.

"Was it Jackson Carter who rescued you before, Linda?" she asked.

Linda blushed. "Yes—it was," she admitted.

"Then why did you treat him so cruelly? I should think you would have been everlastingly grateful."

"I was. Till his mother snubbed me—and he even doubted that I was a nice girl, just because I was traveling about alone. Then, when you introduced me, he wanted to be friends. Naturally I was hurt."

"I don't blame you! But Mrs. Carter is terribly old-fashioned."

While they were talking they had been slowly advancing towards the beach. Suddenly Linda spied a pile of articles near the spot where the autogiro had taken off.

"Look, Dot!" she cried. "There's our stuff on the shore! The basket! My over-night bag—and I guess that other box is my tool kit, that I always keep in the plane! Come on!"

Breathlessly they dashed down to the shore and found that their belongings had indeed been tossed out of the autogiro.

"This proves that Susie's our friend!" cried Linda, hopefully. "She must have done this."

"Fine friend—to steal the plane!" returned Dot. "She didn't have to go with that man!"

"Maybe not.... I'm afraid I can't understand her," mourned Linda. "Half good, and half bad——"

"Don't worry about Susie," urged her companion. "We have enough to think about for ourselves.... Still, it is nice that we eat tonight. Aren't we lucky to have that food?"

Dot's forced cheerfulness brought their wretched plight back to Linda. How selfish she had been, to drag this other girl into this wretched business, when she came South to enjoy a holiday!

"Oh, Dot!" she wailed, "I can't tell you how sorry I am—about bringing you in on this! I had no right to let you come. Your mother will never forgive me. It was different with Lou. When she set out on those wild adventures with me, her parents knew what to expect."

"Cheer up, we're not dead yet," was the reassuring reply. "Things aren't so black. Our enemy is safely out of the country, I take it, and Captain Magee is sure to look us up soon, when he doesn't hear from us. Besides, a friendly boat may come along at any minute."

"Dot, you're one girl in a thousand!" cried Linda, giving her chum a hug. "You're just an old peach, not to be complaining. And for my own sake, I'm so thankful you're with me! Just imagine how I'd feel all alone!"

"Well, let's enjoy ourselves while the food lasts. Let's carry it inshore farther, and find a camping place. You have matches in your pocket?"

"Always!" replied Linda, thinking of her experience in Canada, when she had lost her matches with her plane. "I keep my pockets as full as a man's now, so if I am separated from my plane, I'm not helpless."

"Wise girl! You're learning, Linda. In a year or two you can do exploring, like Byrd—if there are any places left to explore."

"I guess Aunt Emily will make me sit home with folded hands after this," remarked Linda, soberly. "If we aren't rescued soon, it will be bound to get into the newspapers."

She stooped over and opened her tool-box, in which she carried all sorts of things besides actual tools. A flash-light, a knife, wire and string, even nails and nuts. And down in the corner she found several cans of food, which she thought the bandits had taken out when they emptied the plane of its gas that first day in the swamp.

"This is going to be a big help," she said. "We might even build a boat——"

"Out of underbrush?" asked Dot, sarcastically. "Why, there isn't a decent tree on the whole island."

"I'm afraid you're right," sighed Linda. "Well, come on—let's get farther in, and take this money out of our clothing. Money can be a nuisance sometimes," she added, jokingly.

They picked up their possessions, Linda taking the tool-box, and Dot the bag and basket of food, and hunted the shadiest spot they could find for their camp. Then they set about diligently unloading the money, and stuffing it into the over-night bag, which they first emptied of its contents.

"Let's see what we have to keep us alive," suggested Dot, peering into the basket. "Three quarters of a chicken, ten oranges, almost a whole cake, four bananas, and eight rolls, besides that stuff you found. And one thermos bottle full of water—and another half full."

"It's the lack of water that's going to make it hardest," observed Linda. "If only the ocean weren't salty."

"Well, maybe we shan't even need all this! If we rig up some kind of signal of distress——"

"What shall we use? Clothing?"

"We might take hundred dollar bills," laughed Dot. "They're the most worthless things we have now."

"True. Only think how glad the people will be to get them back. Mrs. Carter, for instance.... I have it!" exclaimed Linda, brightly. "Our pajamas! Lucky we put them into the bag! We won't need them in the day-time, and no boat could see a signal at night anyway."

"Good idea!" approved her chum. "Now let's leave all this stuff here, and explore the island. We might find something—and anyhow, it will give us something to do."

Arm in arm they returned to the beach, where the sand was harder, and began to circle the island. They had gone half way around—to the opposite shore—when they both spied the old motor boat at the same moment. So great was their joy that they jumped up and down, hugging each other wildly.

"Of course that's what the man came in!" cried Linda. "We might have known he and Susie couldn't swim the ocean!"

They started to race to the boat, and arrived together. Dot immediately set about examining it for leaks, while Linda gave her attention to the engine.

"It's broken," she said. "But I'm sure I can fix it. You know how I love to take motors apart. Just give me a day——"

"Darling, you can have a week if you want!" agreed Dot, wild with happiness and relief. "We can make our food last."

"A day or maybe two ought to be enough. Then we can get to that other island and retrieve the Ladybug, before anybody even misses us!"

"It seems to be pretty sound," said Dot. "No leaks, or anything. And there are even a couple of oars in the bottom, if the engine won't go."

"Oars wouldn't take us far, with such a heavy boat. But I'm sure I can fix the motor, and there's a can of gasoline here, besides what's in the tank.... But I don't believe I better start now—I'd just get it apart, and the daylight would be gone. I'll get up early tomorrow...."

"Suits me," agreed the other. "Now let's go back to our camp and fix some supper."

Both girls felt exceedingly cheerful as they collected sticks and lighted a fire. From one of Linda's cans they took out tea, but the rest they left unopened. The beans and jam and biscuits would keep until after the picnic food was gone.

"I have a bright idea," remarked Dot, as she ate a leg of chicken. "Why couldn't we make chicken soup, out of the bones and sea-water? You have to put salt in it anyway, don't you?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid it would be too salty. It would make us so thirsty we'd want to drink all our water at once.... Still, we might try. We wouldn't be wasting anything."

"Too bad we haven't sore throats," said Dot, still in a mood for joking.

"Sore throats!" repeated Linda, in amazement. "What's the connection between chicken soup and sore throats?"

"Nothing—I was only trying to think up ways to use salt water. We always have to gargle with salt water, at home, when we have sore throats. Doesn't your Aunt Emily make you do that?"

Her companion laughed. "No, we always use Listerine. But it's an idea. Think up some more, Dot—we'll get some uses for it yet!"

They drank very sparingly of the water in the thermos bottle—one cup apiece—and decided to limit themselves to that at each meal. Sometimes they would substitute oranges—how thankful they were that they had brought so many!

Their light-hardheartedness diminished as the sun went down and darkness settled over the island. The loneliness of the night, the solemn roar of the ocean, the isolation of the island, appalled them. Not a human being except themselves—not a human sound!

But they had each other, and this comfort was so overwhelming to Linda, that it shut out all her other troubles. She could not help exulting every few minutes over the joy of having a companion, and Dot was thankful that she was there, so long as Linda had to meet with such a fate. Yes, surely, they would make the best of things.

They slept well that night, for the sand, covered with leaves the girls had plucked, made a soft bed. A breeze from the ocean was so cooling that Linda had to pull their slickers over them as a covering. The stars shone in a friendly sky; hand in hand, as Linda and Lou had so often slept, the two girls dropped off into unconsciousness.

Their first thought upon awakening, after remembering where they were, was the autogiro. Their second was the motor-boat. They could not eat any breakfast until they had made sure that both of these were still safe.

"That island doesn't look very far away, does it?" Dot remarked, after they had satisfied themselves upon these two questions.

"No, it doesn't," agreed Linda, taking out her spyglasses. "Only, you can't tell by appearances—they're so deceiving on the ocean."

They went back to their camp and breakfasted on oranges and rolls, finishing off with chocolate cake.

"Because we might as well enjoy it while it is fresh," Dot said laughingly. Neither girl ever had to worry about indigestion.

All day long Linda worked on the engine, with her companion at her side, watching her in admiration. All that day and the next. On the evening of the twenty-ninth of June she announced that she was finished. The engine was condescending to run!

"Tomorrow we get the Ladybug!" Linda announced, exultantly. "And get back to Jacksonville in time to keep our engagements for July first!"

They were very happy as they sat beside their camp fire that night, eating their supper of baked beans and crackers and oranges. Happy and light-hearted, never thinking to glance at the sky, and to guess the meaning of the dark clouds that were gathering. Had they only done so, they might have gone to the autogiro that night in their repaired motor-boat—and saved their relatives and friends all the anguish and anxiety that they were to experience during the coming days.

But neither Linda nor Dot gave the weather a thought; they went to sleep that night in the joyful expectation of returning to Jacksonville the following day.

At dawn the storm came, pouring down upon them in torrents, arousing the ocean to terrifying waves, shutting out the sight of the island where the autogiro was waiting—imprisoning the girls once more in their desolate loneliness. And now practically all of their food was gone!