“She floats!” Jerry cried jubilantly. “Now unless we have an upset or strike an object in the river, we should make it to the Adams Street pier.”
“We’ll have a Star paper truck meet us there, and haul the rock to the newspaper plant,” Mr. Parker added with satisfaction. “Let’s shove off!”
Penny had untied the rowboat. However, as she prepared to step into it, her father pulled her back.
“This little trip isn’t for you, Penny. We might upset.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dad,” she argued. “You know very well I can swim circles around you. If the boat does go under, you’ll be glad to have me along.”
“Maybe you’re right,” the editor conceded. “Jump in.”
Water was flowing over the floor of the Crocker shack as the boat and the cumbersome raft started downstream. Jerry, who had elected to steer, found himself hard pressed to keep the prow nosing into the waves. Mr. Parker pulled without much enthusiasm at an extra oar supplied him, content to allow the swift current to do most of the work.
“Isn’t it fun?” Penny demanded, snuggling close to her father. “Just look at the beautiful stars!”
“Look at the river,” Mr. Parker retorted. “Do you realize that if we should strike a floating object—if that big rock should shift—”
“And see the lovely moon,” Penny went on dreamily. “I think it’s laughing at the joke we’re going to play on Jay Franklin in the morning.”