“What caused the accident?” inquired one girl.

“Gallantry,” smiled Greg.  “We were all so anxious to see you girls that we all turned at the same time.  We made the canoe heel, and then it filled and went down.  But you can’t blame us, can you?”

“But you’ve lost your fine big canoe,” cried Laura Bentley, looking as though her pretty eyes were about to fill with tears.

“Yes,” Dick admitted, “and, of course, it’s too bad.  But a lot of other worse things might have happened, and I guess we’ll get over our loss some way.”

“But that canoe meant so much for your summer fun,” Laura went on.  “Oh, it’s too bad!”

“Maybe the canoe isn’t lost,” suggested Hiram Driggs.

“What do you mean, Mr. Driggs?” cried Laura, turning to him quickly.

“Is there any way of bringing the canoe up again?” asked Belle Meade eagerly.

“There may be,” Driggs replied quietly.  “I’m going to have a try at it anyway.”

“All aboard that are going back to the dock,” called the helmsman of the launch, who was also her owner.

Laura turned upon him with flashing eyes.

“I don’t believe there is anyone going,” she said.  “We wouldn’t leave here anyway, while there’s a chance that the high school boys can get their canoe back to the surface of the water.  You needn’t wait, Mr. Morton.  When we’re ready we can walk the rest of the way.”

CHAPTER VIII

WHAT AN EXPERT CAN DO

“I don’t say that I can surely raise the canoe,” Mr. Driggs made haste to state, “or that it will be worth the trouble if we do raise it.  That canoe may have sunk on river-bottom rocks, and she may be badly staved by this time.  But I’ve sent one of my men to fire the scow engine, and I’m going out to see what can be done in the matter.”

“And may we wait here?” asked Laura Bentley, full of eagerness.

“Certainly, young ladies.”

“Oh, that’s just fine of you, Mr. Driggs,” cried Belle Meade.

Smoke soon began to pour out of the short funnel of the working engine on the boatyard scow.  It was a clumsy-looking craft—–­a mere floating platform, with engine, propeller, tiller and a derrick arrangement, but it had done a lot of good work at and about the boatyard.

“You want to get aboard the scow now, boys,” called Mr. Driggs.  “If we do anything real out yonder I’ll have need of some willing muscle.”

“Can’t some of the girls go, too?” called a feminine voice.  “We’re all dreadfully anxious, you know.”

Hiram pursed up his mouth, as though reluctant.  Then he proposed, grudgingly: 

“A committee of two girls might go, if they’re sure they’ll keep out of the way when we’re working.  Just two!  Which of the young ladies ought we to take, Mr. Prescott?”

“Why, I believe Miss Bentley and Miss Meade will be as satisfactory a committee as can be chosen,” Dick smiled.