Jessie held to the paddle with both hands. She sat so she could see to starboard of the bellying sail, and she did not notice what Amy was doing. She soon began to realize, however, that the breeze was not as steady as she had at first thought and that it was growing momentarily stronger.
The canoe heeled over a little and she counteracted this with the paddle. But the strain grew more intense. Spray began to drift in over them. Monenset Lake was deep at this point. Although both Jessie and her chum could swim, the former thought that she did not want to be plunged into the water at this point, and with her clothes on.
“Perhaps we had better drop the sail, Amy,” cried Jessie. “The wind is coming in puffs.”
“Oh, let’s keep on. The puffs are just right,” the other responded. “They are driving us right for Dogtown landing.”
“Goodness!” breathed Jessie, half-frightened “But we don’t want to be carried ashore there and smash the canoe. Be ready with the sheet, Amy, when we go about.”
“Oh—oh—all right!” gasped her chum, suddenly very busy.
There was a moment of silence.
“What are you trying to do?” cried Jessie.
“I—can’t unknot it, Jess!” wailed Amy suddenly.
“What is the matter?” gasped Jessie, in some excitement. “What can’t you do? Look out, Amy! You’ll have the canoe over.”