h it again; Henri plunged after it, too. Colliding, the two
managed between them to miss the garment altogether. It dropped into the
water just under the rail.

"Of all the clumsy fingers!" ejaculated Helen. But she could not seize the
wrap, although she darted for it. Nor could Ruth help, she being still
farther forward.

"Now, you've done it!" complained Aunt Kate.

The boat began to rise on another roller. The cape was sucked out of sight
under the rail. The next moment the whirling propeller was stopped--so
abruptly that the _Stazy_ shook all over.

"Oh! what has happened?" shrieked Helen.

Ruth started up, and Tom seized her arm to steady her. But the girl of the
Red Mill did not express any fear. The shock did not seem to affect her so
much as it did the other girls. Here was a real danger, and Ruth did not
lose her self-possession.

Phil Gordon had shut off the power, and the motor-boat began to swing
broadside to the rising seas.

"The propeller is broken!" cried Tom.

"She's jammed. That cape!" gasped the one-armed skipper. "Here! Tend to
this till I see what can be done. Jack!" he shouted to his crew. "This
way--lively, now!"

But Ruth slipped into his place before Tom could do so.

"I know how to steer, Tommy," she declared. "And I understand the engine.
Give him a hand if he needs you."

"Oh, we'll turn turtle!" shrieked Jennie, as the boat rolled again.

"You'll never become a turtle, Jen," declared Tom, plunging aft. "Turtles
are dumb!"

The _Stazy_ was slapped by a big wave, "just abaft the starboard bow," to
be real nautical, and half a ton of sea-water washed over the forward deck
and spilled into the standing-room of the craft.

Henri had wisely closed the door of the cabin. The water foamed about
their feet. Ruth found herself knee deep for a moment in this flood. She
whirled the wheel over, trying to bring up the head of the craft to meet
the next wave.

"Oh, my dear!" groaned Jennie Stone. "We are going to be drowned."

"Drowned, your granny!" snapped Helen angrily. "Don't be such a silly,
Jennie."

Ruth stood at the wheel with more apparent calmness than any of them. Her
hair had whipped out of its fastenings and streamed over her shoulders.
Her eyes were bright and her cheeks aglow.

Helen, staring at her, suddenly realized that this was the old Ruth
Fielding. Her chum had not looked so much alive, so thoroughly competent
and ready for anything, before for weeks.

"Why--wh