"Suffragist lingo for walk," explained Mollie. "Come on."
The Argono river ran but a short distance from Mollie's home, and soon the four girls were in an old-fashioned, but safely constructed, barge, half drifting and half rowing down the picturesque stream.
The afternoon sun was waning behind a bank of clouds, screened from the girls by a fringe of trees. And as they floated on they talked at intervals of Amy's secret, and of the coming fun they expected to have.
"Let's get farther out in the middle," suggested Betty, when they came to a wide part of the river. "It's more pleasant there, and the air is fresher. It is very warm."
"Yes, I think we will have another storm," agreed Grace. "If it rains now it isn't so likely to when we start."
She was pulling on one pair of oars and Mollie on a second, the others relieving them occasionally. Soon the boat was in the middle of the stream. They had gone on for perhaps half a mile, when Betty, who was sitting comfortably in the stern, toying with the rudder ropes, uttered an exclamation.
"Oh!" she cried. "My feet are wet! Mollie, the boat is leaking!"
"Leaking?"
"Yes! See, the water is fairly pouring in!"
Mollie made a hasty examination under the bottom boards of her craft.