“All right. Sorry. Hop in, girls. I’m heading straight for the other shore,” Gar made known, starting up the engine as he talked.
Reluctantly they turned away from the solitary figure on the shore. She looked like a creature of the woods, indeed, the brown outline of her form merging so completely into the shadows, that it was scarcely distinguishable as the watchers swung around the end of the island.
“Why won’t she come?” queried Nancy anxiously.
“Because she won’t let us see where she goes,” replied Rosa.
“And don’t you know?” pressed Nancy further.
“No. She had promised to take me this afternoon—but—oh, well—” sighed Rosa. “I’m glad you came and I don’t care much about her promises now. I guess I’ve been pretty—foolish.”
“Only guess so?” put in Dell, in a way naturally expected from her, as the oldest member of the party. “We’ve been sure of that all summer. Just imagine, cutting down trees and doing that silly stuff!”
“Now, Dell,” objected Rosa, a little huffed, “you must know I did have some reason. I’m not altogether a simpleton, I hope.”
“So do we—hope,” flung back Gar over his shoulder. “But there’s a boat I’ve got to tow in. See them waving? Hold tight; I’ve got to turn sharp and these waves are pretty frisky.”
All hands now turned their attention to the fisherman’s boat, a little rowboat, quite helpless against the fury into which the lake was working its surface. It took but a very short time to reach the craft, then a man flung Gar a line which the boy pulled up until he could tie it securely into the stern lock of the Whitecap.