r another term, as sophs often did at Pinewood Hall),
arrived at the little dock where the private boats were kept, they saw
that their own skiff was in the water.

"Hullo!" exclaimed Jennie. "Some of the girls have been using the
_Beauty_. What do you know about that?"

They began to run. One girl popped up out of the boat, saw them, and
immediately climbed out upon the dock. It was Grace Montgomery.

"Well, will you look who's here!" ejaculated Jennie. "Who invited _you_
to play in our yard, Miss?"

"Oh, never mind, Jennie!" begged Nancy, pulling at her chum's sweater.

"I'm not going to have anybody take our boat without permission. Who is
that other one? Why, it's Cora, of course! Get out of that!" commanded
Jennie, much more harshly than Nancy had ever heard her speak before.

"Dear me! I didn't know it was _your_ boat, Jennie," said Grace, airily.

"Nor I," chimed in Cora. "You can be sure I wouldn't have got into the
sloppy old thing, if I had."

"Go 'long, chile!" spoke Jennie, scornfully. "It wouldn't matter to you
whose boat it was. Your appreciation of personal property is warped."

"Nasty thing!" snapped Cora.

"Just so," returned Jennie. "Come on, Nance. We'll get a padlock for our
boat-chain to-morrow."

When they had pushed off and were out of hearing of the girls on the
dock, Nancy said, admonishingly:

"Why say things to stir them up? It does no good."

"Oh, fudge! What does it matter? Do you suppose that I care if Grace or
Cora 'have a mad on' at me? Much!" and Jennie snapped her fingers.

They were pulling out into the river. The sun was already below the
hills; but the light was lingering long in the sky and on the water. The
chums had an objective point in a little cove across the river, where
splendid lilies grew.

The evening boat from Clintondale down the river came in sight and the
girls rested on their oars to let it pass. The little waves the small
steamer threw off rocked their skiff gently.

"Goodness!" exclaimed Jennie, suddenly. "This skiff is all wet. My feet
are soaked."

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Nancy. "The water is over _my_ shoes,
too."

"I bet those girls slopped some into the boat when they launched her,"
declared Jennie, angrily.

"Wish we had a bailer. Why, Jennie! the boat's leaking!"

But Jennie had already found that out. And she found _where_ it was
leaking.

"The plug's been pulled, Nance!" she exclaimed. "See that bunch of rags
floating? Tha