“Of course, it can’t be father,” declared Bess. “He knows how to take care of a motor boat.”
Through the glass Wyn, who now had it, saw the flames leaping from under the hood of the boat, while a dense plume of smoke began to reel away on the breeze that was blowing.
“It is afire!” she gasped “Oh! it is! What can we do?”
“We could never reach it in our canoes before the boat burns to the water’s edge,” cried Frankie.
They could see two figures on the doomed boat. Through the glass Wyn could see them so plainly that she knew one to be a waterman, while the other was much better dressed. Indeed, she feared that she recognized the figure of this second man.
“Let me have the glass, Wyn,” said Bessie, eagerly.
But Wyn, for once, was disobliging. “You can’t see anything–much,” she said. “Come on, Bess! let’s try and paddle out to them.”
“And have them swamp our canoes if they tried to climb in,” said Miss Lavine. “No, thanks!”
“Come on!” cried Frank, joining in. “We ought to try and help.”
“What’s the use?” drawled Bessie, walking away. “And you’re mean not to let me have the glass, Wyn.”