“There’s a short circuit somewhere,” called Billy.  “Hold her.  I’ll find it and we’ll be going very shortly.”

“Hurry, Billy!  They’re in an awful mess over there,” urged George.

It seemed as though the “Red Rover” must be torn to pieces.  The boat was now drifting broadside to the waves.  Every large wave would break against the side, then leap clear over the boat.  Every wave seemed powerful enough to crush in the sides.  But they came out dripping, glistening red after each onslaught.  The boatman had succeeded in patching the rent caused by the collision, but the upper deck was leaking in many places.  The “Red Rover” had been strained almost to the breaking-up point.  It was now fairly wallowing in the foaming sea dashing against its weather side.  Harriet had given up trying to do anything with the rudder.  She could not keep the bow of the boat around to the seas.  It persisted in lying broadside on, where it took the full force of the waves.

“There comes a boat,” cried Jane, who had been on the upper deck, waving a sheet as a signal that they were in distress.  All hands peered toward the mainland.  They saw a launch making slow progress toward them.  The little boat seemed to be standing with her bow in the air most of the time.  First it would rear then plunge.  As it neared them they saw that it was Billy Gordon’s boat, bearing himself and George Baker.

“Cast a line!  I don’t dare get near,” shouted Billy when close enough to make his voice heard.

“We haven’t any.  Cast your own,” answered Harriet.

George did the casting.  He failed three times but on the fourth cast Harriet caught the line and quickly made it fast to a cleat at the forward end being nearly swept overboard in the effort.  The “Red Rover” straightened out on her course.  For a moment the launch seemed to be losing ground rather than gaining, then slowly it began to pick up and shortly after that was making slow progress toward shore.

There were many spectators to that battle, none of whom believed that either launch or houseboat, ever would reach the land.  Other boats refused to venture out in such a gale.  Even the big boats remained tied up.  So much water was taken aboard by the launch that George was fully occupied in bailing.  A piece of oilcloth had been thrown over the engines and battery coils to keep these from getting soaked and thus causing a stoppage of the engine.

For two hours did launch and houseboat labor through the seas, fighting every inch of the way.  Harriet’s arms ached from handling the tiller.  She was wet to the skin but clung steadily to her work.  The boatman was kept inside to watch for and stop leaks, of which there were many before the voyage came to an end.  At last the “Red Rover” slipped into comparatively calm water, amid a chorus of yells from the boys on shore.  George got up and waved his cap to the girls.  They answered the salute with three cheers, then Billy pulled the scow up to her former anchorage, and in a few moments she lay rolling easily in a moderate swell, safe, though considerably strained from her wild voyage across a lake that many larger and more seaworthy boats would have hesitated to brave.