CHAPTER XII
AN OVERTURN
Dave Shepard had stopped the motor boat land now he hailed the pretty girl in the skiff.
“I say, Miss Jarley! did you have any luck?”
“I’ve got a good string of white perch. They love to feed among these stumps,” returned Polly.
“Oh, Polly Jolly! sell us some; will you?” cried Wyn, eagerly. “We’re so hungry.”
“Do, do!” chorused several of the other girls and boys aboard the Happy Day.
Polly, smiling, held up a long withe on which wriggled at least two dozen silvery fish. “Aren’t they beauties?” she demanded. “Wait! I’ll row out.”
She had already raised her anchor. Now she sat down, seized the short oars, and plunged them into the water. How she could row! Even Bessie Lavine murmured some enthusiastic praise of the boatman’s daughter.
Her skiff shot alongside the motor boat. She caught the gunwale, and then held up the string of fish again.