"Till morning!" almost shouted Belle.
"It's due at three-thirty," announced the imperturbable Walter.
"Oh! what shall we do?" wailed Bess.
"We might walk," suggested Cora. "It isn't very far to that shore, and it's shallow."
"Mercy, no!" exclaimed Belle. "There are all sorts of holes in the mud here. I would stay forever before I would try walking."
Cora laughed. She had no idea of being taken seriously.
"Now, you see," said Walter, "my wisdom in curtailing the chaperon.
Just imagine her now," and he rolled laughingly over toward Jack.
"Easy there! No need for artificial respiration or barrel-rolling just yet," declared Jack. "In fact, if we had a bit of water, we'd be thankful. Let me work the engine, Ed. Maybe I can give luck a turn and get more push out of it."
Ed left his place, and Jack took it, but the sand bar held the little launch like adamant, and it seemed useless to exert the gasoline power further.
"Suppose we have the little ditty again," suggested Ed, taking a seat near Cora. "What was it? 'Love's Latitude?'"