the Black Growler several times
as she turned her course backward.

"I guess that will be some race," said Miss Susie Stevens. "I think
I'll go with you."

"You think you'll what?" demanded Mr. Button sharply.

"I just said that I thought I would be one of the crew of the Black
Growler in the race."

"Excuse me, young lady," said Mr. Button solemnly. "That will be no
place for a lady."

"Why not?" demanded Miss Susie unabashed.

"All you have to do is to look at yourself now," retorted Mr. Button
somewhat tartly. "You're soaked, you're dripping from your head to your
heels."

"I don't mind a little thing like that."

"Well, you ought to, whether you do or not. When I was your age the
girls didn't go in for racing."

"Then they never knew what they lost."

"No, they didn't know what they lost," said Mr. Button quietly. "I
guess they were better, if they were not better off."

"Oh, you'll enjoy having me about, Mr. Button," said Miss Susie. "You
need all the help you can get and Fred says he's going to steer in the
race. He'll want me close by to tell him just what to do."

"If you speak to mo while I'm steering the boat in that race," spoke up
Fred, "I'm afraid you'll find yourself where you and Mildred were
yesterday when the Black Growler came along."

The fearless girl laughed derisively, but as the impromptu contest now
was ended, conversation turned to other topics.

The speed under which the Black Growler was moving was somewhat
diminished, but the motor-boat still was sweeping swiftly on its course.

"I hope we'll get there in time for luncheon," exclaimed Miss Susie at
last breaking in upon the silence that had followed her conversation
with Fred's grandfather.

"That's another thing," said Mr. Button, "that I don't approve."

"What's that?" inquired Miss Susie. "Luncheon? Doesn't it make you
hungry to ride on the river?"

"When I was young," said Mr. Button, "the girls didn't gorge
themselves, and many a time I have seen my sisters even at a formal
dinner eat only enough to enable them to follow the courses."

"Yes, and afterwards," said Miss Susie, who was unterrified by the
gloomy remarks of the old gentleman, "they used to go behind the pantry
doors and eat pickles and lots of other indigestible things. I don't
wonder that they had such frightful color."

"But they didn't have such 'frightful color,' as you are pleased to
call it," said Mr. Button. "When they were exposed to the sunl