“Take that pole, Ron,” called Dick, nodding toward where a long pole was fastened. “If we swing around to the bank, hold her there, if you can. I can’t find out what is the matter with this double-jointed and twisted old engine!”
“I bet I can, Dick,” offered Maurice, who gave a look at Ann to see if she were frightened and rising, made his way to the engine. How handsome Maurice looked in his white flannels, Ann thought.
“Scared, Suzanne?” asked Eleanor, noticing that Suzanne looked pale. Suzanne shook her head in the negative.
“Maury will fix it,” said Suzanne. “Still, I imagine that nobody feels real comfortable. It was a mighty big alligator that splashed in last!”
“Sh-sh! Don’t mention it, Suzy. The boys would get us to shore with that pole.”
“Chug! Chug-chug!”
“Good for you, Maurice, you’ve got it!”
But no; the chugging stopped. Both Dick and Maurice were working away at the engine. “For pity’s sake, Lois,” said Dick Bell in a low tone to his sister, “get ’em to doing something besides watching us. It’s getting on my nerves!”
Maurice, whose white flannels were not quite so white by this time, laughed as he worked and started up the old round, “Row, row, row your boat, lightly down the stream.”
With some laughter, the rest joined in. “Better change it to ‘Pole your boat,’ as the Seminoles do, if we don’t get this thing started pretty soon,” growled Dick, who was nervous from his responsibility.