"That's the idea," agreed Paul, trying to speak cheerfully.
He glanced at the two girls. Ruth's lips were quivering, and she seemed on the verge of tears. Alice was bearing up better, but she, too, showed the effects of the strain.
Mrs. Maguire was a pillar of strength and courage.
"Whist! And it's laughin' we'll be at ourselves in a little while—to think we were scared!" she cried, with a forced Irish brogue. "We'll be soon aboard the steamer tellin' what good times we had, an' the others will be wishin' they'd been along."
"I—I wish I could believe so," faltered Ruth.
The boys rowed on, and they were glad of the exertion, for it kept them from brooding over the troubles of their situation, and a troublesome situation it was—they admitted that.
The afternoon was half gone, and in spite of having traveled several miles, twisting this way and that, there were no signs of the steamer.
The boat made a turn in a stream that seemed more sluggish and lonely than any of the others. But it was broader and this gave the boys hope.
"We may get somewhere on this creek," observed Russ, pulling hard at the oars.
Alice gave a startled cry, pointed toward the shore and said: