“Is there much danger to whoever goes in the little boat?” asked Mr. Barstow.

“Some, not much.  It’s the big boat that is likely to get caught and if the launch did get stuck and we couldn’t sheer off it would only mean a quick jump and a little swim and—­a busted launch.”

The Irene started down the creek with her engine at half speed, the captain at the wheel and Dick standing in the bow of the motor boat with an oar at hand.  Molly stood in the companionway at the captain’s request because he feared her being swept overboard by overhanging branches.  Mr. Barstow and Ned were stationed near the bow with long poles for fending off from the banks when necessary.  The first trouble came from a wooded point on the starboard side, but Dick swung the power boat to port while Ned nearly went overboard as he threw his weight on the pole with which he was fending.  The bow cleared the point, though the bowsprit swept the bushes and a low-growing branch tore out the screens on the starboard side.  Before the point was passed Dick had the launch on the starboard side, working to turn the Irene before she should strike the opposite bank.  The efforts of all hands failed to make the turn in time and a stump by the bank caught in the jib-stay of the boat and held her fast.  As the stern of the Irene swung on the point she had nearly passed, she lay broad-side to the current, subject to all its power.

“We’re in for it now, if that jib-stay don’t part pretty sudden,” said the captain.

And before the words were out of his mouth the eye-bolt that held the stay broke short off and the Irene’s bow swung down the stream.  The boat was not caught badly again, although her fore rigging on the port side was carried away and her sides somewhat scarred.  The only accident that threatened was prevented by a precaution which Dick had taken.  He had fastened his tow line to the stern of the launch with a knot that could be slipped and led the end of the line forward to where he stood by the wheel.  It happened that when nearly through the creek it became needful to drag the bow of the Irene far to port.  Dick did this, but found himself in a pocket from which he could not escape and in position to be dragged stern first under the bow of the big boat.  A quick jerk on the towing line, and the launch was safe behind the Irene.  There was no more trouble for the big boat, which a minute later was headed down the broad but shallow river, at half speed, while Dick picked up the skiff with its alligator passenger who slowly opened one eye when spoken to.  In a few minutes the Irene was traveling at full speed toward Tussock Bay while her joyful passengers sat on the cabin roof and talked of perils which had passed.

[Illustration:  “SLOWLY LIFTING HIS HUGE HEAD OVER THE SIDE OF THE SKIFF”]