“I’m doing my best,” she said. “But somehow she doesn’t work very well. There’s still something wrong with the engine. It’s kicking like a bucking broncho.”
“Let’s hope it holds out till we get to camp, anyway,” said Grace, prayerfully. “We don’t want to stop at any more islands for repairs.”
“It’s getting late too,” said Amy anxiously. “We don’t want to get there after dark.”
Betty laughed.
“Why, there isn’t a chance in the world of that now,” she said, adding with a chuckle: “Why, we’re near enough now to get out and tow the Gem along shore and still get there before dark. Isn’t that the rock your brother spoke of, Amy?” she asked eagerly, pointing to a huge rock, whose jagged contour suggested a horse’s head, looming directly ahead of them.
Unless she was mistaken it was this rock which Henry Blackford had told them to look out for, as the cabin was situated a scant mile further down the lake.
Amy followed Betty’s pointing finger and cried out eagerly.
“That’s it,” she said. “There couldn’t be two rocks like that at this end of the lake.”
“Looks as if our journey were almost ended, girls,” said Grace, sighing as she reluctantly placed the cover on her box of fudge. “We shall soon see the spot where we are to spend two riotous months——”
“Maybe so and maybe not,” interrupted Betty in so chagrined a voice that they looked at her in surprise. And then they noticed that the rhythmic sound of the engine had ceased.