THE TATTERED YOUTH
Betty Nelson reached the bank of the river and stopped. She could go no farther for the muddy water stretched itself at her feet. But her boat—the trim little Gem—was moving slowly up the stream under the influence of the mysterious something that was towing it away from the girls.
"Oh!" cried Grace. "What can we do? Betty—Mollie! We must stop it."
"Yes; but how?" asked Mollie. She and the others had followed Betty to the shore.
"We must find another boat, and catch the Gem!" cried Amy. "It isn't going very fast."
"If we only could!" murmured Betty, looking helplessly around. But no other boat was in sight. "We must do something," she went on. "We'll be marooned if we stay here!"
"But what can be towing our boat?" asked Mollie. She stood on the bank, nervously twining her fingers in and out, weaving them back and forth as she always did when puzzled or alarmed. "Is it the current taking it away, Betty?"
"But it's going against the current," Grace pointed out. "Some animal must have become entangled in the anchor or painter, Betty. An alligator, perhaps."
"That's it!" cried Mollie. "An alligator is running away with our boat. Oh, Betty!"
"It may be that," admitted the Little Captain, as she gazed after her craft. "I didn't think of it, but that's probably what it is. I don't see the beast above the water, though. Do you, girls?"