“Guess you are right, there,” Darry agreed, hopelessly.
“And I can’t swim so very good,” Amy confessed. “I—I’m afraid to try it. In the dark, too.”
“Looks as if we’d have to stay here and drift about until morning,” Burd said in disgust. “Wish we’d saved some of the lunch.”
“How can you speak of such things when you are in danger of drowning?” moaned Amy. “It—it isn’t reverent.”
“Wow!” yelled Burd. “I felt a snapping turtle at my toe.”
“You did not! You did not!” cried the excited Amy. “You just say that, Burd Alling, to frighten me.”
But she cocked her feet up on the top of the log and from that time on was in danger of toppling off.
“We can keep you afloat, Sis,” her brother declared. “Guess we’d better push for the shore.”
“Not at the point,” Jessie objected. “We’d never be able to land there. And the mosquitoes would eat us up. There’s a regular swamp.”
“Then, how about crossing the lake?”