“I volunteer,” said Molly, “if you can get anybody to go as engineer.”

Every one laughed at this, excepting Molly, who blushed a little, and Dick pulled the power boat up beside the Irene as if he were afraid that somebody would change her mind if there was any delay.

“Can she do it and is it quite safe?” asked Mr. Barstow.

“Do it as well as anybody.  They may swamp the skiff or get caught in a corner, but they can get out on the bank without anything worse than a ducking.”

As the power boat started, with Molly at the wheel, Dick standing by the motor and the skiff hauled close under the stern, the captain called out to Dick: 

“Full speed.  It’s your only chance to get through.  Don’t bother with the skiff, but keep an oar handy to fend off from the bank.”  The speed of the boat was doubled by the current and Dick’s heart was in his mouth as the banks flew past and some log-guarded point threatened to smash the bow of the boat.  But Molly was quick to see the coming peril and the wheel rolled swiftly to starboard or port, always in time to avert it.  There were double turns which the boat could never have made but for the rush of the current which often swept them aside from a stump or log that it seemed impossible to avoid.  It was a thrilling experience to both pilot and engineer, and when the broad, placid river opened before them and the perilous trip was past, the girl turned a flushed and beaming face toward her companion and said: 

“Wasn’t it just lovely?”

And the boy replied with enthusiasm: 

“It was glorious!”

Dick fastened the skiff to a tree on the bank, gave a look at the lashing of the alligator and the return through the creek began.  There was nothing exciting about this trip.  As the craft was working against the current, the flow of the water balanced the power of the engine, and log stumps and points on the bank were passed slowly, inch by inch.  Often there was no progress and then the boat was steered close beside the bank and Dick pushed with his oar against the trees until less swift water was found.  The run down the creek was made in three minutes.  The return ’took half as many hours.  On the Irene all were anxious but the captain and Tom.  At the end of an hour Ned was for starting down the creek with the big boat, but Captain Hull said: 

“No.  It may take them three hours.  Give them two at least.  If we start now we’ll make sure of a smash-up.”

In another minute the motor of the launch could be heard, although it was half an hour more before the wanderers were welcomed aboard the Irene and their story told.

“It’s our turn for trouble now,” said the captain, “and we’re likely to get it, good and plenty.”

“Want me to tow?” said Dick.

“Sure,” replied the captain.

“Me, too?” inquired Molly.

“No,” replied the captain, rather sharply.  “It isn’t piloting this time.  You can’t steer the launch much while it’s fast to the big boat.  Best you can do is to fend off and then you’re likely to get caught, and when you do get caught and fifteen tons comes down on you at ten miles an hour, somebody has got to be spry.”