"I'm afraid so."
Cora leaned over, scooped some water up in her hand, and dashed it into the white face of the girl. Isabel opened her eyes.
"Are we—are we—" she gasped.
"We're all right, you little goose," said Cora with a laugh, though her voice trembled and her hands shook. "I guess it wasn't nearly as dangerous as it looked."
"It was bad enough," spoke Elizabeth.
"Anyhow, the auto stopped," went on Cora. "Don't you see where we are? In the middle of Campbell's Pond. And we won't have to swim out, either. It's not very deep. But, Bess, you look like a sheet, and Belle, you seem like—"
"A pillow-case, with the pillow out," added Isabel with a wan smile.
"I never was so glad to get a ducking in all my life."
"And I guess we're not the only ones who got a ducking," said Cora as she shook some drops from her hair.
"Why?" inquired Bess.
"Look!" and Cora pointed across the pond. A very much drenched figure was standing up. The man with the fishing-pole was wiping the water from his face. He looked at the girls in the auto.