The appetizing odor of bacon and eggs came from the little galley, mingled with the aromatic foretaste of coffee. Aunt Kate was busy inside. The girls were laughing out in the cabin, or on the lowered after-deck. It was the next morning—which makes all the difference in the world. “I’m afraid we’re going to have a shower today,” observed Amy, musingly, as she looked up at the sky. A light fog hung over the river. “Will you ever forget the awful shower that kept us in the deserted house all night?” asked Betty, as she arranged her hair. “I mean when we were on our walking trip,” she added, looking for a ribbon that had floated, like a rose petal, under her shelf-dresser. “Oh, we’ll never get over that!” declared Mollie, who was industriously putting hairpins where they would be more serviceable. “And we couldn’t imagine, for the longest time, why the house should be left all alone that way.” “Now I’m going to begin my lesson,” announced Grace, who, having gotten herself ready for breakfast, took up the book showing how various sailor knots should be made. With a piece of twine she tied “figure-eights,” now and then slipping into the “grannie” class; she made half-hitches, clove hitches, a running bowline, and various other combinations, until Amy declared that it made her head ache to look on. The girls had breakfast, strolled about on shore for a little while, and then started off, intending to stop in Dunkirk, which town lay a little below them, to get some supplies, and replenish the oil and gasoline. It was while Betty was bargaining for the latter necessaries for her motor in a garage near the river that she heard a hearty voice outside asking: “Have you men seen anything of a trim little craft, manned by four pretty girls, in the offing? She’d be about two tons register, a rakish little motor boat, sailing under the name _Gem_ and looking every inch of it. She ought to be here about high tide, stopping for sealed orders, and——” “Uncle Amos!” cried Betty, hurrying to the garage door, as she recognized his voice. “Are you looking for us?” “That’s what I am, lass, and I struck the right harbor first thing; didn’t I? Davy Jones couldn’t be any more accurate! Well, how are you?” “All right, Uncle. The girls are down in the boat at the dock,” and she pointed. “The man is going to take down the oil and gasoline. Won’t you come on a trip with us? We expect to make Rainbow Lake by night.” “Of course I’ll come! That’s why I drifted in here. I worked out your reckoning and I calculated that you’d be here about to-day, so I come by train, stayed over night, and here I am. What kind of a voyage did you have?” “Very good—one little accident, that’s all,” and she told about getting adrift. “Pshaw, now! That’s too bad! I’ll have to give you some lessons in mooring knots, I guess. It won’t do to slip your cable in the middle of the night.”