"I'll do both! I can run, if I can't row!" and Dotty flew off like a deer up the hill toward the Norris camp.
Dolly stepped into the boat and shipped the oars. It was a large flat-bottomed boat and the oars were heavy. Dolly knew how to row but she was not expert at it, and, too, she dreaded to turn around with her back to the baby. "Though," she thought to herself, in an agony of conflicting ideas, "I've got to row out there, and I can't do it and keep watch of Gladys both."
She pulled a few strokes, twisting her head between each to get a glimpse of the baby who was now sitting quietly in the canoe, drifting out toward the middle of the lake.
Not a motor boat or craft of any kind that might lend assistance was in sight. They were at the extreme upper end of the lake and most of the camps were farther down. Vainly Dolly scanned the water for a boat of any kind, but saw none. Bravely she pulled at the big oars, but she was not an athletic girl, and having been laid up so long with a broken leg her muscles were weak.
She pulled as hard as she could, in a straight line toward the canoe, but though she succeeded in lessening the distance between them she could not get very near the baby, for the canoe drifted steadily away.
At last, by almost superhuman efforts, she came within a few feet of the child, and then fearing to bump into the canoe and upset it, she turned around and tried to back water gently. But the big oars were ungainly and the task was not easy.
Moreover, Gladys was overjoyed at seeing Dolly in the other boat and she expressed her joy by leaning over the side of the canoe.
Dolly's heart seemed to stop beating as she saw the wobbly little boat careen with the laughing baby leaning far over the edge. She knew she must not alarm the child and so in a desperate endeavour to speak naturally, she called out, "Sit up straight, baby; see how straight you can sit!"
"So straight!" and Gladys emphasised her straightness by putting both arms up in the air.
"Yes, dear. Now fold your arms and sit straight."