“Want me to take the wheel?” asked Jack.
“No, thank you, I think not. We ought to be almost there now. But I don’t know about going over the mountain trail in this storm.”
“Maybe it will stop,” suggested Belle.
“It doesn’t act so,” commented Walter.
The thunder had almost ceased, and the lightning was not so startling, but the rain came down harder than ever.
“I declare I can’t see either bank of the river,” Cora said. “I hope I shan’t run into anything.”
They kept on for perhaps an hour longer, the rain never ceasing. But they were good and dry in the snug motor boat.
“I think we’d better put ashore and find out where we are,” suggested Jack, after a bit. “We may have run past Riverhead, Cora.”
“Run past it! How could we, Jack? The river’s almost too shallow for a rowboat past Riverhead. We’d be aground.”
“Not necessarily. They’ve lately dredged a channel about a mile beyond, to let boats bring ice down from the houses up above. You may be in the channel,” Walter said.