"All aboard that are going back to the dock," called the helmsman of the launch, who was also her owner. Laura turned upon him with flashing eyes. "I don't believe there is anyone going," she said. "We wouldn't leave here anyway, while there's a chance that the high school boys can get their canoe back to the surface of the water. You needn't wait, Mr. Morton. When we're ready we can walk the rest of the way." CHAPTER VIII WHAT AN EXPERT CAN DO "I don't say that I can surely raise the canoe," Mr. Driggs made haste to state, "or that it will be worth the trouble if we do raise it. That canoe may have sunk on river-bottom rocks, and she may be badly staved by this time. But I've sent one of my men to fire the scow engine, and I'm going out to see what can be done in the matter." "And may we wait here?" asked Laura Bentley, full of eagerness. "Certainly, young ladies." "Oh, that's just fine of you, Mr. Driggs," cried Belle Meade. Smoke soon began to pour out of the short funnel of the working engine on the boatyard scow. It was a clumsy-looking craft---a mere floating platform, with engine, propeller, tiller and a derrick arrangement, but it had done a lot of good work at and about the boatyard. "You want to get aboard the scow now, boys," called Mr. Driggs. "If we do anything real out yonder I'll have need of some willing muscle." "Can't some of the girls go, too?" called a feminine voice. "We're all dreadfully anxious, you know." Hiram pursed up his mouth, as though reluctant. Then he proposed, grudgingly: "A committee of two girls might go, if they're sure they'll keep out of the way when we're working. Just two! Which of the young ladies ought we to take, Mr. Prescott?" "Why, I believe Miss Bentley and Miss Meade will be as satisfactory a committee as can be chosen," Dick smiled. Some of the girls frowned their disappointment at being left out, but others clapped their hands. Laura and Belle stepped on the scow's platform. "I wouldn't try to go, if I were you, Dan," urged. Dick, as young Dalzell stepped forward to board the scow. "I'm all right," Dan insisted. "Sure you're all right?" questioned Hiram Driggs, eyeing Danny Grin's wobbly figure. "Of course I am," Dan protested, though he spoke rather weakly. "Then there's a more important job for you," declared Mr. Driggs. "Stay here on the float with the rest of the young ladies, and explain to them just what you see us doing out yonder." There was the sound of finality about the boat builder's voice, kindly as it was. "Cast off," ordered Driggs, taking the tiller. "Tune up that engine and give us some headway." Clara Marshall was thoughtful enough to run back and get a chair, which she brought down to the float and placed behind Dalzell. "Sit down," she urged. "Thank you," said Dan gratefully, "but I didn't need a chair." Nevertheless the high school girls persuaded him to be seated. "I---I wasn't drowned, you know," Dan protested as he sat down.