“Use the crank!” cried Betty, who was hobbling the wheel over as hard as she could, hoping the tug of the current would carry the _Gem_ out of danger. But the craft hardly had steerage way on. Mollie seized the crank, which, by means of a long shaft and sprocket chain, extending from the after cabin bulkhead to the flywheel, revolved that. She gave it a vigorous turn. There was no welcome response of throbbing explosions in the cylinders. “Try again!” gasped Betty, “Oh, all of you try. I simply can’t leave the wheel.” The steamer was now sending out a concert of sharp, staccato blasts. Plainly she was saying, loudly: “Get out of my way! I have the right of the river! You must get out of my way! I can’t avoid you!” “Why don’t they stop?” wailed Grace. “Then we wouldn’t bump them so hard!” As if in answer, there came echoing over the dark water the clang of the engine-room bell, that told half-speed ahead had been ordered. A moment later came the signal to stop the engines. “Oh, if only Uncle Amos—or some of the boys—were here!” breathed Betty. “Girls, try once more!” Together Mollie and Grace whirled the crank, and an instant later the motor started with a throb that shook the boat from stem to stern. “There!” cried Betty. “Now I can avoid them.” She threw in the clutch, and as the _Gem_ shot ahead she whistled to indicate her course. This time came the proper response, and a little later the motor boat shot past the towering sides of the river steamer. So near had a collision been that the girls could hear the complaining voice of the pilot of the large craft. “What’s the matter with you fellows?” the man cried, as he looked down on the girls. “Don’t you know what you’re doing?” Clearly he was angry. “We got adrift, and the motor wouldn’t start,” cried Betty, in shrill tones. “Pilot biscuit and puppy cakes!” cried the man. “It’s a bunch of girls! No wonder they didn’t know what to do!” “We did—only we couldn’t do it!” shouted Betty, not willing to have any aspersions cast on herself or her friends. “It was an accident!” “All right; don’t let it happen again,” cried the steersman, in more kindly tones. And then the _Gem_ slipped on down the river. “What are we going to do?” asked Mollie, as Grace steered her boat. “If we’re going to stay out here I’m going to get dressed,” declared Grace. “It’s quite chilly.” Can you find your way back to the dock?” Aunt Kate inquired. “Can you do it, Betty?” “I think so. We left a light on it, you know. I’ll turn around and see if I can pick it out. Oh, but I’m all in a tremble!” “I don’t blame you—it was a narrow escape,” said Mollie. “I don’t see how we could have gone adrift, unless some one cut the ropes,” remarked Grace. “I’m sure I tied them tightly enough.” “They may have become frayed by rubbing,” suggested Betty. “We’ll look when we get a chance. What are you going to do, Amy?” for she was entering the cabin.