“A pillow-case, with the pillow out,” added Isabel with a wan smile.  “I never was so glad to get a ducking in all my life.”

“And I guess we’re not the only ones who got a ducking,” said Cora as she shook some drops from her hair.

“Why?” inquired Bess.

“Look!” and Cora pointed across the pond.  A very much drenched figure was standing up.  The man with the fishing-pole was wiping the water from his face.  He looked at the girls in the auto.

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Elizabeth.  “I should think we did give him a ducking!”

“I’m awfully sorry, but—­but we couldn’t help it,” said Cora, standing up and looking at the young man.

He approached closer, began wading out into the pond toward the auto.  The water was not very deep, hardly up to his knees.  Cora found herself wondering how he had managed to fish in it.

He was very good-looking, each of the girls was thinking to herself.

“Can’t I help you?” he asked, smiling broadly, in spite of the mud and water splashed all over him.  There was actually a little globule of mud on the end of his nose.  He seemed as much amused over his own predicament as he was over that of the motor girls.  “Do you need any help?” he went on.

“I’m sure I—­er—­that is, I hardly know,” stammered Cora.  She was not altogether certain about the state of the auto.  “I’m afraid we’ve been very—­very impolite—­to splash water, and—­er—­mud all over you,” she added.

“Not at all—­not at all,” he assured her.  “I never saw a better—­a better turn, so to speak.  You are very plucky, if I may be permitted to say so.  I—­er—­I almost said my prayers when I saw you racing down toward the train.  Then I saw you turn in here.  But what happened that you couldn’t stop before?”

“The brake,” replied Cora.  “It refused to work.  This is a new car—­our first trip, in fact.”

“Oh, I see,” replied the young man.  “Well, I know a little about cars.  Perhaps I can run her out for you.  Just let me try.”

Cora shifted over to the other side, leaving the wheel free.  The young fisherman cranked up, from a very insecure and muddy footing in the middle of the pond.  There came a welcome “Chug! chug! chug!”

The auto was all right, after all.

The young man climbed in.  The spot of mud was still on his nose, and Cora felt an insane desire to laugh.  But she nobly restrained it.  He took the wheel and threw in the low speed gear.  There was a grinding sound, the Whirlwind seemed to shiver and shake, and then it began to move.  A few seconds later, after running slowly through the pond, it ran up the soft bank, and, under the skilful touch of the stranger, came to a stop in a grassy meadow.

“There!” exclaimed the young man.  “I guess you’re all right now.  But let me look at that brake.  Perhaps I can fix it.”

Then it occurred to Cora that she might attempt to introduce her friends and herself.  The twins had not yet spoken a word to the fisherman.