“You don’t really expect that thing to protect us, do you?” asked Mollie, regarding her incredulously.
“Why not?” asked Grace, unabashed. “It did good work once; why should it not again?”
“Why, indeed?” echoed Mollie, sarcastically, but she said no more about it.
Yet, strange as it may seem, the inadequate little toy gave Grace the comfortable, satisfied feeling of being well protected.
She and Mollie had been gathering up the breakfast dishes when the latter suddenly dropped a sauce pan with a clatter that made Grace jump nervously.
“For goodness’ sake——” began the latter, but Mollie did not wait for her to finish.
“What geese we mortals be, Grace Ford,” she said. “How does Betty expect to get back to Deepdale when the Gem’s engine is out of fix?”
And without waiting for a reply if, in fact, she had expected any, she took to her heels in the direction where the motor boat lay, Grace following more slowly behind her.
But before they could reach the water’s edge a familiar putt-putt came to them and they were just in time to see Betty triumphantly steer the little boat away from shore.
“What on earth did you do to it?” called Mollie, and Betty made a face at her.