“You’d better both lie down till we get to the camp. I’ll take you right there,” said the other girl, briefly.
“We’d have been–been drowned, Wyn!” gasped Bess.
“I guess we would. We are still a long way from shore.”
“And Polly saved us? All alone? How wonderful!”
But Polly’s face was stern. She scarcely spoke to the two Denton girls as the Coquette swept across the lake. Wyn told her just how it all happened and the condition of the two canoes when they lost sight of them.
“I saw one; maybe the other can be found,” Polly said. “I’ll speak to father and, if the moon comes up clear bye and bye, we’ll run out and see if we can recover them.”
But for Bess she had no word, or look, and when the other put out her hand timidly and tried to thank her, as they neared the shore, Polly only said:
“That’s all right. We’re used to helping people who get overturned. It really is nothing.”
She would not see Bessie’s hand. The latter felt the repulse and Wyn, who watched them both anxiously, dared not say a word.