couple of agile young men
leaped upon the upturned wharf, and making their way on all fours along
it, they reached the scow in time to assist the doctor and Harry Lauder
to bring it to the side of the boat. Meanwhile Lawyer Ed stood up on
the deck and roared out superfluous orders in a broad Scottish dialect
that was rather overdone.

The rescuing vessel was received with cheers and the gang-plank was put
in place.

"Women and children first!" cried Ed heroically, but Madame, in the
centre of her flock called out an indignant refusal.

"No, indeed, the children are not going first. You, Johnnie Pickett
and Jimmie Hurd, you come right back off that thing, do you hear me?
You go along yourself some of you Scotchmen, and see if it will hold,
and then I'll bring my babies. You're in your bathing suits anyway,"
she added cruelly, for Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby was not a Scotchwoman,
and did not know how to appreciate the kilts.

So the Piper marched out upon the scow, playing magnificently; some
dozen young men followed him and with poles pushed themselves ashore.
Then, amid cheers a couple of volunteers came back for another load
from the wrecked vessel. When several trips had been made successfully
and Madame and the children had been safely landed, Alfred Wilbur came
forward and offered to pole a crowd over. Of course the crowd
consisted of young ladies with the Baldwin girls and their pretty guest
as the centre piece.

Alfred placed himself upon the scow, pole in hand and with many gallant
remarks from Lawyer Ed the young ladies were handed on board. One by
one they tripped out over the gang-plank, laughing gaily, their muslins
and ribbons, their sashes and bracelets, their pink cheeks and bright
eyes transforming the old scow into a floating garden. No wonder
Alfred became excited over captaining such a fair cargo. In his
nervous zeal he encouraged more than his sailing capacity would admit,
and when the scow was almost crowded he saw to his dismay that the
Baldwin girls and their guest had not yet come on board. He had
pictured himself, pole in hand, shoving off before all the picnickers
with Miss Allan clinging to his arm, and he began to grow anxious lest
she be carried off in one of the row boats now come to the rescue.

"Move over further, won't you, girls, please," he called to his
laughing, chattering crew. "I mean move a little aft won't you,
please. I beg your pardon for troubling you, Belle!