“If our engines don’t give out,” put in Stuart Robinson doubtfully. He never felt confident about his ancient motorboat.
“Suits me fine!” cried Jane, realizing that the arrangement gave her twenty extra minutes to dance.
The rowboats pushed off, and ten minutes later Mary Louise and her mother and David stepped into their canoe. It was a light craft, built for speed, and both she and David were excellent paddlers. In no time at all they were leading the procession.
It was David’s sharp eyes which first detected signs of a disaster.
“There’s a fire at Shady Nook!” he cried breathlessly.
“Oh!” gasped Mrs. Gay in horror, and turning about swiftly, Mary Louise thought that her mother was going to faint. But she didn’t; she pulled herself together quickly and sat up very straight.
“It’s true,” agreed Mary Louise, her voice trembling with fear. Suppose it were their own cottage—and—and—Freckles!
[The canoe rounded the bend in the river and came within full view of the little resort.] The Reeds’ house was visible now—yes—and the Gays’! Thank heaven it was unharmed!
“It’s either the Partridges’ or Flicks’,” announced David. “And my bet is that it’s Flicks’. I was expecting it.”
“You were expecting it, David?” repeated Mrs. Gay in consternation. “What do you mean by that?”