hard work she was launched. Proudly she rode the river, as proudly as at Deepdale, and Betty, with a little cry of joy, took her place at the wheel.
Batteries and magneto were in place, some gasoline was provided, and a little later the motor boat was ready for her first trip in Southern waters.
"All aboard!" cried Betty, as the engine was started.
Slowly, but with gathering speed, the trim craft shot out into the middle of the Mayfair.
"Oh, this is just perfect!" breathed Mollie. There was a little cloud on the face of Grace. They all knew what it was, and sympathized with her. No news had come about Will.
They puffed along, to the wonder and admiration of of many of the colored pickers, who stopped to look—any excuse was good enough for stopping—especially the sight of a motor boat. Suddenly Grace, who was trailing her hand over the stern, gave a startled cry, and sprang up.
"Oh! oh!" she screamed. "An alligator. I nearly touched the horrid thing! Go ashore, Betty!"
