"Well, well!" he exclaimed. "Oh, I forgot this isn't salt water. Well,
I dare say you will stumble into the lake after some fashion-- but it
isn't seaman-like-- it isn't seaman-like," and the old tar shook his
grizzled head gloomily.
Betty smiled, and shifted her course a little to give a wide berth to
some boys who were fishing. She did not want the propeller's wash to
disturb them. They waved gratefully to her.
The sun was declining in the west, amid a bank of golden, olive and
purple clouds, and a little breeze ruffled the water of the river. The
stream was widening out now, and Betty remarked:
"We'll soon be in the lake now."
"The boat-- not us, I hope," murmured Grace.
"Of course," assented Betty, "Won't you stay with us to-night, Uncle
Amos?" she asked, as she opened the throttle a little wider, to get
more speed. "You can have one of the rear-- I mean after, bunks," she
corrected, quickly.
"That's better," and he smiled. "No, I'll berth ashore, I guess. I've
got to get back to town, anyhow. I just wanted to see how you girls
were getting along."
The Gem was speeding up.
Pages:
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115