Ruth had fairly dragged Ann Hicks into the party.  The girls who had been meanest to the westerner were present.  Ann would have had a woefully bad time of it had not some of the smaller girls needed somebody to look out for them.

Ann hated the little girls at Briarwood less than she did the big ones.  In fact, the “primes,” as they were called, rather took to the big girl from the West.

One of the swings was not secure, and Ann started to fix it.  She could climb like any boy, and there did not happen to be a teacher near to forbid her.  Therefore, up she went, unfastened the rope from the beam, and proceeded to splice the place where it had become frayed.

It was not a new rope, but was strong save in that one spot.  Ann coiled it, and although it did not have the “feel” of the fine hemp, or the good hair rope that is part of the cowman’s equipment, her hands and arm tingled to lassoo some active, running object.

She coiled it once more and then flung the rope at a bush.  The little girls shouted their appreciation.  Ann did not mind, for there seemed to be no juniors or seniors there to see.  Most of the older girls were down by the water.

Indeed, some of the seniors were trying to interest the bigger girls in rowing.  Briarwood owned a small lake, and they might have canoes and racing shells upon it, if the girls as a whole would become interested.

But many of the big girls did not even know how to row.  There was one big punt into which almost a dozen of them crowded.  Heavy sat in the stern and declared that she had to have a big crowd in the bow of the boat, to balance it and keep her end from going down.

Therefore one girl after another jumped in, and when it was really too full for safety it was pushed out from the landing.  Just about the time the current which set toward the middle of the pond seized the punt, it was discovered that nobody had thought of oars.

“How under the sun did you suppose a thing like this was going to be propelled?” Heavy demanded.  “I never did see such a fellow as you are, Mandy Mitchell!”

“You needn’t scold me,” declared the Mitchell girl.  “You invited me into the boat.”

“Did I?  Why!  I must have been crazy, then!” declared Heavy.  “And didn’t any of you think how we were going to get back to shore?”

“Nor we don’t know now,” cried another girl.

“Oh-o!” gasped one of the others, darting a frightened look ahead.  “We’re aiming right for the dam.”

“You wouldn’t expect the boat to drift against the current, would you?” snapped Heavy.

“Let’s scream!” cried another—­and they could all do that to perfection.  In a very few minutes it was apparent to everybody within the circle of half a mile or more that a bunch of girls was in trouble—­or thought so!

“Sit down!” gasped Heavy.  “Don’t rock the boat.  If that yelling doesn’t bring anybody, we’re due to reach a watery grave, sure enough.”