Dotty tried to scream, but her heart was beating so wildly and her nerves pulsing so rapidly she could make scarcely any sound, and her wail of agony died away in a whisper.
"I can't yell, either," said Dolly, hoarsely, as she trembled like a leaf. "But we must do something! Don't go to pieces, Dotty—"
"Go to pieces nothing! You're going to faint yourself. Now stop it, Dollyrinda," and Dotty gave her a shake. "We've got to save that child, no matter how we do it!— Sit still, baby, won't you?" she called to Gladys.
But the child bounced about in her new-found freedom and grasping each side of the canoe with her little hands began to rock it as hard as her baby strength would allow.
"Oh!" breathed Dolly, who was watching with staring eyes; "sit still, little Gladys; don't rock the boat, dearie."
"Ess; rock-a-by-baby, in a saily boat!" and again Gladys swayed the little craft from side to side.
"We must make her stop that first of all," and Dotty wrung her hands as she stepped down to the water's edge and even into the water as she called to the baby. "Gladys, sit very still, and Doddy come out there in another boat. Sit very still."
Gladys did sit still, and the canoe floated steadily on the smooth lake. But it drifted farther and farther from land and now about twenty feet of water separated the baby from the shore.
"We've got to get in the row boat and go out there," said Dotty, who was already untying the rope.
"Yes, it's the only thing to do," agreed Dolly; "but you can't row, Dot, and I can. So I'll take the boat, and you run for help. I don't know whether you'd better go to the Norrises; I don't think there's anybody there but the cook, or whether you'd better make straight for home and get your father to come."