“Here goes for a dive!” cried Mollie, as she climbed out on the end of the pier, and mounted a mooring post. She poised herself gracefully. “Better not—you don’t know how deep it is,” cautioned Betty. “I’m only going to take a shallow dive,” was the answer and then Mollie’s slender body shot through the air in a graceful curve, and cut down into the water. A second later she bobbed up, shaking her head to rid her eyes of water. “That was lovely!” cried Grace. “Did I splash much?” “Not at all.” “It’s real deep there,” said Mollie. “Some day I’m going to try to touch bottom.” The girls splashed about, refreshing themselves after the race. Then came calm evening, when they sat on deck and ate supper prepared by Aunt Kate. “Now you girls just sit right still and enjoy yourselves,” she told them, when they insisted on helping. “You don’t win motor boat races every day, and you’re entitled to a banquet.” That night there was another informal dance at the Yacht Club, and the girls had a splendid time. Mr. Stone and Mr. Kennedy exerted themselves to see that our friends did not lack for partners, and Grace was rather ashamed of the suspicions she had entertained concerning the twain. The carnival came to an end with a series of water sports. There were swimming races for ladies, and Mollie won one of these, but her chums were less fortunate. The carnival had been a great success and many congratulations were showered on Messrs. Stone and Kennedy for their part in it. “We are glad it is over,” said Mr. Stone, as he and his chums sat on the deck of the _Gem_ one evening, having called to ask the girls to go to another dance. But Betty and her chums voted for staying aboard, and proposed a little trip about the lake by moonlight. Soon they were under way. It was a perfect night, and the mystic gleam of the moon moved them to song as they swept slowly along under the influence of the throttled-down engine. Suddenly Mr. Kennedy, who was sitting well forward on the trunk cabin with Grace, sprang to his feet, exclaiming: “What’s that?” “It looks like a fire,” said Grace. “It is a fire!” cried Mr. Stone. “Say, it’s that hay barge we noticed coming over this evening, tied up at Black’s dock. It’s got adrift and caught fire!” “Look where it’s drifting!” exclaimed Betty. “Right for the Yacht Club boathouse!” added Mollie. “The wind is taking it there. Look, the fire is increasing!” “And if it runs against the boat house there’ll be no saving it!” said Mr. Kennedy. “There’s no fire-boat up here—there ought to be!” “Girls!” cried Betty, “there’s just a chance to save the boat house!” “How?” demanded Amy. “If we could get on the windward side of that burning barge, throw a line aboard and tow it out into the middle of the lake, it could burn there without doing any damage!” “By Jove! She’s hit the nail on the head!” declared Mr. Stone, with emphasis. “But dare you do it, Miss Nelson?” “I certainly will dare—if you’ll help!”