Wyn Mallory was a pretty cool-headed girl; nor was this the first time she had been in an accident of this nature.
Naturally, in learning to handle the light cedar craft as expertly as they did, the members of the Go-Ahead Club had much experience. While the weather was good the girls plied their paddles up and down the Wintinooski, but seldom was the river as rough as this open lake in which Wyn and Bessie Lavine had been so unexpectedly overturned.
“Oh! am I not the unluckiest girl that–that ever happened?” wailed Bess, when she came up puffing.
“N-o-no more than I, Bess,” stammered Wyn.
“Get your canoe, Wyn!” cried Bess.
“Oh, yes; but we can’t turn them over in this sea. Oh! isn’t that horrid!” as another miniature wave slapped the captain of the club in the face and rolled her companion completely over.
Bess lost her grip on her canoe. The latter floated beyond her reach while Wyn was striving to get her friend to the surface again.
“Why! we’re going to be drowned!” shrieked Bess, suddenly horror-stricken.
“Don’t you dare lose your nerve,” commanded Wynifred. “If we lose courage we certainly will be lost.”
“Oh, but, Wyn—”