Beth quieted down and watched the man. His rowing aroused her admiration. She wished that some time she could prove as great an expert as he, and resolved to do her very best to imitate him. She noted especially, the long swinging strokes that he took. Crossing the river was little work for him, and the other side was reached in safety. They drew up alongside the Davenport wharf. Harvey offered to go up to the house with Beth, and take the blame upon himself, but she thought that her mother would rather hear of the adventure from her. So the three occupants of the boat parted company. Mrs. Davenport had not yet returned when Beth reached the house, but came soon afterwards. Beth immediately confessed to her every incident of the day. "This has taught you a lesson, Beth, without mamma's saying anything," Mrs. Davenport said, when the little penitent had finished. "You know yourself it was very wrong to go without permission, and I do not think you will ever do such a thing again, will you?" "Never," answered Beth so earnestly that Mrs. Davenport had full faith in her promise. CHAPTER VII Beth's New Playfellow Beth could not find Fritz high or low and she was worried about him. She ran out to the barn to ask January if he had seen anything of her pet. She found the former inside the barn leaning up against a partition wall with his eyes shut and his mouth wide open. He was fast asleep and looked very droll. Beth could hardly keep from laughing, but she managed to say sternly: "January, you ought to be working instead of sleeping." He wakened with a start. A look of conscious guilt overspread his face. "My eyes were closed, Missy Beth; dat wuz all. I jes' came in and sot down to comb my hair." Beth shook her finger at him. "You were snoring." "Wuz I? Well, I'm powe'ful warm, Missy Beth. Don't yo' tole on me, an' I'll swah nevah to do so agin." Beth felt it her duty to lecture him a bit. "You ought to tell things when you do wrong. I do. January, have you seen Fritz?" "Not since dis mornin', Missy Beth. He wuz down by the river watchin' a great big 'gator." She looked apprehensive. "January, do 'gators ever eat dogs?" "I've heard tell dey do sometimes." "What would I do if that 'gator has eaten my Fritz!" Whereupon away she ran, as fast as her little legs could carry her, to the river, calling her beloved dog. But no Fritz came bounding at her call. In fact, he did not return even to supper, nor for breakfast the next morning. The conviction grew with Beth that Harvey Baker's 'gator had eaten Fritz. Her resentment rose against the boy and his pet, she even shedding some tears of anger and of grief. Soon after breakfast, a red-eyed little girl started out to give Harvey Baker a piece of her mind. She found him, as usual, on the wharf. He was perfectly unconscious of the storm that was in store for him. In fact, he was in the very act of feeding the 'gator.