“Good!” exclaimed Marita, “then we can go for Cora and Lottie.”
Promptly the brand new rope of the Chelton was tossed to the disabled boat and fastened, then the two boats started for shore.
Cora and Lottie were waiting. The latter had shed her wet “garments of vanity,” as Belle described them, for a simple brown linen frock.
“What happened?” called Cora, as the boats neared shore.
“Mis-happened,” answered Dray. “It was just fate. We couldn’t expect to beat the motor girls.”
“Nice of you,” acknowledged Cora, “but I am sorry if there is anything wrong with your beautiful boat.”
“It’s the boat and not the boy,” remarked Ed. “Well, we’ll do as much for you some day, Cora. Wait until we get our little Lassie out. She, being a mere girl, may have a show.”
“What’s the matter, Lottie?” asked Bess, as they landed and the girls noted that Lottie was remarkably quiet, and even a trifle pale.
“Not a thing,” Cora hurriedly answered, while she crushed her fingers on Lottie’s arm. “We were detained at the bungalow, that’s all. We’ll tell you all about it later on.”
The girls gathered around Cora and Lottie at this remark. But Cora, by some mysterious signal system, had warned Lottie not to say anything, and she soon joined the boys, who had already boarded the Dixie to overhaul her.