“Port!  Port!” cried Betty, suddenly, seeing the danger.

“Which is port—­ right or left?  I’ve forgotten!” wailed Amy, helplessly.

“To the left!  To the left!” answered Betty, springing forward.  She was not in time to prevent Amy from turning the wheel to the left, which had the effect of swinging the boat to the right, and almost directly toward the canoeist, who shouted in alarm.

But by this time Betty had reached the wheel, and twirled it rapidly.  She was only just in time, and the Gem fairly grazed the canoe, the wash from the propeller rocking it dangerously.

“We beg your pardon!” called Betty to the young man in the frail craft.

“That’s all right,” he said, pleasantly.  “It was my own fault.”

“Thank you,” spoke Amy, gratefully.  “Here, Bet, I don’t want to steer any more.”

“No, keep the wheel.  You may as well learn, and I’ll stand by you.  No telling when you may have to steer all alone.”

They stopped for lunch in a pretty little grove, and sat and talked for an hour afterward.  Mollie hunted up a telephone and got into communication with her house.  She came back looking rather sober.

“The specialist says Dodo will have to undergo an operation,” she reported.  Grace gasped, and the others looked worried.

“It isn’t serious,” continued Mollie, “and he says she will surely be better after it.  But of course mamma feels dreadful about it.”

“I should think so,” observed Betty.  “They never found out who those mean autoists were, did they?”

“No,” answered Grace, “and we’ve never gotten a trace of Prince, or the missing papers.  Papa is much worried.”

“Well, let’s talk about something more pleasant,” suggested Betty.  “Shall we start off again?”

“Might as well,” agreed Grace.  “And as it isn’t far to that funny Mr. Lagg’s store, let’s stop and——­ "

“Get some candy and poetry,” sniped Amy, with a laugh.

“I was going to say hairpins, as I need them,” spoke Grace, with a dignity that soon vanished, “but since you suggested chocolates, I’ll get them as well.”

They found Mr. Lagg smiling as usual.

  “This fine and beautiful sunny day,
   what will you have—­ oats or hay?”

Thus he greeted the girls, who laughingly declined anything in the line of fodder.

“Unless you could put some out as a bait for our horse Prince,” spoke Grace.  “It’s the queerest thing where he can have gone.”

“It is strange,” admitted the genial storekeeper, who had heard the story from Will.  “But if I hear of him I’ll let you know.  And, now what can I do for you?

  “I’ve razors, soap and perfume rare,
   To scent the balmy summer air,”

He bowed to the girls in turn.

“How about chewing gum?” asked Betty.

“Oh, would you?” asked Grace, in rather horrified tones.

“Certainly, aboard the boat where no one will see us.”