"I assure you I was too busy finding my bathing suit and getting into it to know just when the girls were ready," responded the chaperon.
At one part of the island the ground dipped gradually so that one might have any depth of water desired, and it was to this part that the young folks made their way.
"Remember——" said Frank, referring to the conversation of the night before, "remember, you girls will have to prove your claims to championship swimming this morning. If you were just faking, now is the time we'll find you out."
"We're not faking," Mollie denied stoutly. "I learned to swim when I was nine years old, and I've been swimming ever since."
"Really?" Roy inquired with interest. "Then you must be Mollie's ghost, while the real Mollie is swimming around out there somewhere," waving his hand in the direction of the water, "chumming with some of the beautiful water nymphs. Just think, nothing to do but swim for—how many years is it, Mollie?" he asked.
"Goose!" was all she answered, but that one little word managed somehow to contain a world of scorn.
"You try it first, Will," begged his sister. "Then you can tell us whether it is cold or not."
"Say, what kind of sport are you, anyway?" Will demanded. "That's the way with girls—they all make a big bluff about being able to do what we can, and then when it actually comes down to business they want to try it on us first. I'd like to see one of you go in first!"
Betty made a dash for the water. "Wouldn't it be nice," she flung back at him over her shoulder, "if all wishes could be granted so easily. Come on, girls—we'll show them a thing or two," and she waded in till the water was above her waist, then plunged in over her head.
Mollie followed close upon her heels and it was a moment before the boys realized what had happened, and could rouse themselves to action.