Dunkirk, on the western shore, was recommended by Mr. Lagg in a little rhyme, and then he waved to them from the end of his dock as the Gem was once more under way.
“Look out for that big steamer,” cautioned Betty a little later, to Grace, who was steering.
“Why, I’m far enough off,” answered Grace.
“You never can tell,” responded the Little Captain, “for there is often a strong attraction between vessels on a body of water. Give it a wide berth, as Uncle Amos would say.”
That Betty’s advice was needed was made manifest a moment later, for the large steamer whistled sharply, which was an intimation to the smaller craft to veer off, and Grace shifted the wheel.
They reached Dunkirk without further incident, except that about a mile from it the motor developed some trouble. In vain Betty and the others poked about in the forward compartment trying to locate it, and they might not have succeeded had not a man, passing in a little one-cylindered boat, kindly stopped and discovered that one of the spark plug wires was loose. It was soon adjusted and the Gem proceeded.
“I’ll always be on the lookout for that first, when there is any trouble after this,” said Betty, as she thanked the stranger.
“Oh, that isn’t the only kind of trouble that can develop in a motor,” he assured her. But Betty well knew this herself.
They had passed Elm Island soon after leaving Mr. Lagg’s store, but saw no sign of life on it. They intended to come back later on in their cruise and camp there, if they decided to carry out their original plans of living in a tent or bungalow.
“That is, if the ghost doesn’t make it too unpleasant,” remarked Betty.