ood. It was much more
comforting.

"Are you all ready?" asked the Little Captain as she took her place on
one side, well up in the bow, Mollie taking a similar position on the
other side. Each held one of the long oars.

"All ready," answered Amy, who had taken up the boat hook.

"Wait a minute," begged Grace, looking for something on which to cleanse
her hands of the brown smudge of chocolate. "This candy is so sticky!"

"There's the whole river to wash in," said Mollie. "'Water, water
everywhere,' and not any solid enough to go ashore on," she concluded
with a laugh.

"I'll never dip my hands in this water--not until I can see bottom,"
declared Grace, finally selecting a bit of rag that Betty used to polish
the brass work of the engine.

"As if it would hurt to take hold of the boat hook with chocolate
fingers," spoke Mollie a bit sharply. "At any rate one could wash the
pole without fear if its being nipped by an alligator."

"Don't be silly," directed Grace with flashing eyes.

"Well, don't eat so much candy then."

"Come, girls, if we're going to get off the bar it's time we tried it,"
suggested Betty with a smile. She did not want the two tempers, that
seemed often on the verge of striking fire, one from the other, to
kindle now. There was enough of other trouble, she reasoned.

The oars and pole were thrust into the water ahead of the boat. Bottom
was found within a few inches, showing how shallow was the stream over
the bar. The prow of the _Gem_ seemed to have buried itself deeply in
it.

They pushed and pushed and pushed again, but the only noticeable effect
was the bending of the slender pole of the boathook on which Grace and
Amy were shoving with all their strength. The motor boat did not budge.

"Once more!" cried Betty. "I think it moved a little."

"I wish--I could--think so!" panted Mollie, as she shifted the position
of her oar.

Again they all bent to the task, and Amy and Grace combining their
strength on the pole caused it to bend more than ever.

"Stop!" cried Betty, in some alarm. "It will break, and I don't know
where I can get another. We'd better try reversing the engine."

She sat down in the cushioned cockpit, an example followed by the
others. They were breathing rather hard, and presently Betty went into
the cabin and came out with some iced orangeade that had been put aboard
in a vacuum bottle to retain its coolness.

"Here," she invited, "let's refresh ourselves a bit