gracefully than anyone else, Cora always said.

Then they all went down to the little dock where the _Chelton_ was
tied, and Cora, with a quickness born of long experience, ascertained
that there was plenty of gasoline and oil in the craft. She tested the
vibrator and found the current good, though at times, when not
suffering from a fit of stubbornness, the engine had been known to
start with the magneto. But it was not safe to depend on it.

"Are you all ready?" asked Cora.

"I guess so," answered Bess. "I guess I won't have to have bromide,
after all. I feel better already."

"I thought you would," laughed Cora. "Marita, just straighten out that
stern flag, will you? Thank you. You're a dear!"

"Look out!" laughed Belle. "When Cora begins calling names there is no
telling when she will stop."

"Don't worry," was Cora's answer, as she stooped over to crank the
motor. It started on the first turn and soon the _Chelton_ was
chugging a course over the sun-lit waters of Crystal Bay.

"Do you see anything of the boys?" asked Cora, as she turned to the
others from her place at the steering wheel.

"No, there's their boat--at least Jack's apology for one--tied to the
stake," said Lottie. "Does that boat ever go out two days in
succession, Cora?"

"I don't believe it does," answered Jack's sister. "It was a sort of
makeshift, anyhow. Jack only got her running because someone said it
couldn't be done--it was a sort of dare. But the poor old boat seems
to suffer from some intermittent fever. It runs one day and rests the
next."

"And the _Dixie_--she's resting, too," went on Bess, as she looked
down the bay to where Dray Ward's fine racing craft was moored. "The
boys are not around yet."

"Probably sleeping," murmured Belle. "The indolent creatures!"

"Folks who live in glass houses--and all the rest of it," said Cora.
"It's nearly eleven, and we haven't been long away from the breakfast
table ourselves."

"It's a case of carrying coals to Newcastle; isn't it?" asked Lottie,
drying with her filmy handkerchief a drop of water on her dress.

"You mean the pot calling the kettle black," laughed Cora. Lottie
never could get her proverbs just right.

"Oh, well, it's all the same as long as there's black in it,"
responded Lottie. "I knew I had part of it right."

On went the _Chelton_, and she had that part of the bay all to herself
for the time being. A little breeze ruffled the water, and the sun
shone brightl