Jane waded over to the rowboat for the rope.  She made it fast; then, getting behind the houseboat, she pushed while Harriet rowed.  The “Red Rover” started but slowly.  It was all the two girls could do to get it in motion.  Then when, finally, they had gotten under way with it, Jane was obliged to wade out in water nearly to her neck to reach the rowboat.  She nearly upset it in getting aboard.  Two pairs of oars, instead of one, were now bent to the work of towing the houseboat.  The boat went broadside to the waves, nearly pulling them overboard.  They saw that it would be impossible to tow it to the Johnson dock in this fashion.

“One of us must row and the other steer,” declared Harriet.

“I’ll do the rowing.  You’ve had your share,” cried Jane.  “Wait, I’ll pull you alongside.”

“No.  You must keep the oars going, or the big boat will drift back into shallow water again.  I’ll get back there all right.”  Harriet unshipped her oars and stood up in the boat.  She took a clean, curving dive into the lake.  Jane shouted delightedly.

“What a beauty!”

Harriet came up, shaking her head to free it from water, then struck out for the houseboat.  Getting aboard, weighted down by her clothes as she was, was not an easy task.  Finally, however, the girl managed to get one foot over the edge.  She clung there for a moment breathing heavily, then slowly climbed aboard.

“Hur-r-r-ro-o-o-o!” wailed Jane.  “They can’t stop a Meadow-Brook Girl with fire or water.”

“Now pull,” shouted Harriet, “I’ll change places with you when you get tired.”

“I’ll rest when I get tired,” was the very practical reply of Crazy Jane McCarthy.

Harriet took the tiller and straightened out the scow’s course, though she discovered that the old boat was a most unmanageable craft.  It simply would not keep on any one course for more than thirty seconds at a time.  Jane was shouting her directions, making sarcastic remarks about Harriet’s steering, but the latter merely smiled.  She knew she was doing the best she could, and that was all any one could do.  Jane was making but slow headway.  They had not yet rounded the point that hid the Johnson dock from view.  Her strokes became uneven, and jerky.  All at once the rope broke.  Crazy Jane McCarthy landed in the bottom of the rowboat.

“Save me,” she screamed.

Harriet, who could not see the small boat, the deck house being in the way, continued on her course, smiling good-naturedly at Jane’s noisy objections.  But all at once a crash and a yell startled Harriet.  She threw the tiller over and leaned far out.  The rowboat was bottom-side-up, with Crazy Jane McCarthy struggling in the water.  Her mouth was too full of water, just at that moment, to allow her to raise an outcry.  The momentum of the houseboat carried it alongside the overturned rowboat, Harriet leaned over and grasped one of her companion’s arms.