by
Carolyn Keene

Chapter I
Racing the Storm

“Don’t you think we should turn back, Helen? It’s getting dreadfully dark out here on the lake and I don’t like the look of those big black clouds.”

As Nancy Drew addressed her chum, Helen Corning, she gazed anxiously up at the sky and then out across a long expanse of water to the distant shore.

The two girls were spending several days at a camp located on Moon Lake, and on this particular afternoon they had slipped away for a delightful motorboat outing. They had cruised aimlessly about for several hours, enjoying the lake scenery and, particularly, a cool, refreshing breeze which brought them relief from an unseasonably torrid day, for it was early summer.

Now, as Nancy studied the sky for the first time, she was alarmed to notice that it had become overcast.

“Helen, I’m afraid there’s going to be a storm,” she announced. “They come up so quickly on Moon Lake.”

“You’re right,” Helen agreed uneasily. “It does look threatening. I didn’t realize we were so far from shore. We’d better get back to camp as fast as we can.”

“I guess we were having too good a time to notice the weather,” Nancy said.

She gave the steering wheel a turn and headed the motorboat toward the eastern shore. Although it was not yet dusk, darkness seemed to be closing in upon the lake. It was with difficulty that the girls distinguished the shore line. The water, which only a few minutes before had been a smooth, clear blue, lashed about the little boat in angry, inky waves.

Helen studied the sky nervously.

“We’d better make full speed ahead, Nancy,” she advised. “We’re a long way from camp, and that big cloud is rolling up fast.”

Nancy Drew was of the same opinion. One hasty glance at the cloud in question had assured her that there was no time to be lost if they were to beat the storm. Even before Helen had made the suggestion, she had opened the throttle to the fullest extent. The motorboat fairly leaped through the water, dashing spray into the faces of the two girls.

“Why didn’t we start back a few minutes earlier?” Helen groaned. “We’ll be drenched to the skin before we reach shore!”

“I’m afraid we shall,” Nancy admitted. “I wonder if there are any oilskins aboard?”

“They may be under the seat. I’ll look and see if I can find them.”

A moment later Helen triumphantly brought out a mass of sticky yellow garments. She quickly slipped into a coat, and then relieved her chum at the wheel, giving her an opportunity to don the oilskins.

Hastily, Nancy pulled a southwester down over her curly, golden bob, and struggled into a coat several sizes too large for her. She was not an instant too soon, for suddenly a streak of forked lightning cut across the sky, momentarily disclosing a thick mass of ugly clouds. The lightning was followed by an ominous crack of thunder, which caused the girls to cower involuntarily.

“That was close,” Helen murmured uncomfortably.

“It’s just a taste of what’s coming!” Nancy cried. “The storm is almost on us!”

The wind, which had been steadily freshening, now began to blow in earnest. It struck the boat with a force which caused Nancy to grasp the railing for support. Huge waves swept down upon the little craft, threatening to bury it.

Another dazzling flash of lightning illuminated the sky, and simultaneously a deluge of rain descended upon the unfortunate girls.

“Oh, this is terrible!” Helen wailed. “I can’t see to steer!”

Nancy sprang to a position directly behind her chum and peered ahead into the darkness. As though by magic, the shore line had vanished. The blinding rain made it impossible to see more than a few feet beyond the bow.

“Hold to your present course!” she advised, shouting to make herself heard above the noise of the storm. “It can’t rain like this for long.”

The gallant little motorboat plowed defiantly through the waves, but the steady chug of its engine did not comfort the two girls. They knew that they were miles from camp, and should anything go wrong with the motor they would be entirely at the mercy of the waves. Nancy recalled that she had noticed only one fishing boat on the lake during the afternoon, and the knowledge that in case of an accident cries for help would go unheard did not add to her peace of mind. However, so long as the engine continued to labor faithfully, there was no need to worry.

“How much gasoline have we left?” Helen inquired anxiously.

“Oh, at least half a tank, Helen. We shan’t need to worry on that score.”

After a time the rain ceased to fall in torrents and a drizzle set in. However, the storm was by no means over, for the wind continued to blow a full gale and every instant it seemed to Nancy Drew and Helen Corning that the waves became higher.

“If only we could see where we’re going!” Helen complained.

She had endeavored to maintain a straight course for the camp, but there was no way of estimating the amount of drift, and she had no idea how far they were from shore.

A jagged ribbon of lightning illuminated the path ahead. Catching her breath, Nancy Drew leaned forward and peered into the inky water. What she saw froze her with horror. Directly ahead, floated a big log!

“About!” Nancy cried frantically.

Helen, too, had seen the log which lay in the path of the motorboat, and the sight held her in a paralysis of fright. She froze to the wheel.

“About!” Nancy shouted again.

Helen gave the wheel a vicious turn. The boat responded, but not quickly enough. The log loomed up in the water ahead. With a splintering crash, the boat struck it.

The sudden impact of the blow threw Nancy Drew backwards. She went sprawling into the bottom of the boat. Helen, who still clung to the steering wheel, screamed in fright.

“Nancy, are you hurt?” she demanded fearfully.

Nancy did not reply, but hastily scrambled to her feet. With difficulty she managed to stand, for the boat listed sharply to the right. Instantly, she saw that the collision with the log had torn a jagged hole in the side of the craft. Water was pouring in through it.

“Quick!” Nancy ordered sharply. “We must bail or we’ll sink!”

She sprang forward, and, tearing off her coat, tried to stuff it into the hole. Helen caught up a rusty pail which had been kept on hand for fish bait, and began to bail. She worked madly, but in spite of her efforts, the water came in faster than she could dip it out.

“Oh, it’s no use!” she groaned. “We’re sinking!”

Nancy, too, realized that they could not hope to stop the leak. The boat was doomed, and they with it unless aid came to them quickly.

“Shout for help!” she ordered. “Someone may hear us.”

Cupping their hands to their lips, the girls shouted again and again.

“Help! Help!” they screamed desperately.

There was no answer. The wind howled derisively in their ears, mocking them in their plight.

“Oh, what shall we do?” Helen demanded hopelessly.

Already the two girls were standing in water over their ankles, and each instant the boat was settling lower. A big wave bore down upon them, and Nancy, who saw it coming, realized that it meant the end.

A deluge of water poured in over the sides.

“We’re lost!” Helen cried. “We’re lo⁠—”

The words ended in a choking gurgle as the waters closed over her head.

Chapter II
A Desperate Struggle

As the motorboat settled into the lake, Nancy Drew leaped clear and began to tread water. Her first thought was for her chum. What had become of her?

Nancy Drew was an excellent swimmer. But, as Nancy knew, Helen Corning was barely able to keep herself afloat in a quiet pool. With crushing, smothering waves bearing down upon her, she would be helpless.

Frantically, Nancy glanced about. She heard no cry, but several yards away she thought she saw a white hand above the water. With powerful crawl strokes, she plowed through the waves toward the spot. The hand had vanished.