There came a noticeable slowing down to the speed of the motor. The Gem lagged. The Eagle was in hot pursuit. Betty acted quickly.

"Put on those rubber gloves!" she ordered. "Take a pair of pliers, and hold the ends of that wire together. That will make it as good as mended until after the race. Amy, you help. But wear rubber gloves, and then you won't get a shock. Quick, girls!"

The breaking of the wire threw one cylinder out of commission. The Gem was one third crippled. There came a murmur from the pursuing boat.

There was a commotion in the forward engine compartment of Betty's boat. This was caused by Grace and Amy seeking to repair the damage.

A moment later the resumption of the staccato exhaust of the motor told that the break had been repaired-- temporarily, at least. The boat shot ahead again, at her former speed, and only just in time, for her rival was now on even terms with her.

"Oh, Betty, we can't do it!" Mollie said, pathetically. "We're going to lose!"

"We are not! I've got another notch I can slip forward the gasoline throttle, and here it goes! If that doesn't push us ahead nothing will-- and---- "

"We don't get that cut gla.s.s," finished Mollie.

But just that little fraction was what was needed. The Gem went ahead almost by inches only, but it was enough. The Eagle's crew of three girls tried in vain to coax another revolution out of her propeller, but it was not to be, and the Gem shot over the line a winner. A winner, but by so narrow a margin that the judges conferred a moment before making the announcement. But they finally made it. The Gem had undoubtedly won.

"Oh!" exclaimed Grace as she climbed out into the cabin, and thence to the deck, followed by Amy. "Oh, my hand is numb holding the ends of that wire together. I didn't dare let go---- "

"It was brave of you!" exclaimed Betty, patting Grace on the shoulder.

"If you had let go we would have lost. We'll bathe your hand for you in witch hazel."

"Oh, it is only cramped. It will be all right in a little while."

"What a din they are making!" cried Amy, covering her ears with her hands.

"They are saluting the winner," said Mollie, as she noted the tooting of many boat whistles. Betty slowed down her boat, and saluted as she swept past the boat of the judges.

"Well, I'm glad it's over," sighed Grace. "It was nervous work. I'm going to make some chocolate, and have it iced. It was warm up there by the motor."

"And you both need baths," remarked Mollie with a laugh. "You are as grimy as chimney sweeps."

"Yes, but we don't mind," said Amy. "You won, Betty! I'm so glad!"

"We won, you mean," corrected the Little Captain. "I couldn't have done it except for you girls,"

Many craft saluted the Gem as she came off the course.

"I wish Uncle Amos could have seen us!" exclaimed Betty. "He would have been proud." The girls remained as spectators for the remainder of the carnival, and then, the day being warm, they went to their dock. Near it was a sandy bathing beach, and soon they were swimming about in the limpid waters of Rainbow Lake.

"Here goes for a dive!" cried Mollie, as she climbed out on the end of the pier, and mounted a mooring post. She poised herself gracefully.

"Better not-- you don't know how deep it is," cautioned Betty.

"I'm only going to take a shallow dive," was the answer and then Mollie's slender body shot through the air in a graceful curve, and cut down into the water. A second later she bobbed up, shaking her head to rid her eyes of water.

"That was lovely!" cried Grace.

"Did I splash much?"

"Not at all."

"It's real deep there," said Mollie. "Some day I'm going to try to touch bottom."

The girls splashed about, refreshing themselves after the race. Then came calm evening, when they sat on deck and ate supper prepared by Aunt Kate.

"Now you girls just sit right still and enjoy yourselves," she told them, when they insisted on helping. "You don't win motor boat races every day, and you're ent.i.tled to a banquet."

That night there was another informal dance at the Yacht Club, and the girls had a splendid time. Mr. Stone and Mr. Kennedy exerted themselves to see that our friends did not lack for partners, and Grace was rather ashamed of the suspicions she had entertained concerning the twain.

The carnival came to an end with a series of water sports. There were swimming races for ladies, and Mollie won one of these, but her chums were less fortunate. The carnival had been a great success and many congratulations were showered on Messrs. Stone and Kennedy for their part in it.

"We are glad it is over," said Mr. Stone, as he and his chums sat on the deck of the Gem one evening, having called to ask the girls to go to another dance. But Betty and her chums voted for staying aboard, and proposed a little trip about the lake by moonlight. Soon they were under way.

It was a perfect night, and the mystic gleam of the moon moved them to song as they swept slowly along under the influence of the throttled-down engine.

Suddenly Mr. Kennedy, who was sitting well forward on the trunk cabin with Grace, sprang to his feet, exclaiming:

"What's that?"

"It looks like a fire," said Grace.

"It is a fire!" cried Mr. Stone. "Say, it's that hay barge we noticed coming over this evening, tied up at Black's dock. It's got adrift and caught fire!"

"Look where it's drifting!" exclaimed Betty.

"Right for the Yacht Club boathouse!" added Mollie. "The wind is taking it there. Look, the fire is increasing!"

"And if it runs against the boat house there'll be no saving it!" said Mr. Kennedy. "There's no fire-boat up here-- there ought to be!"

"Girls!" cried Betty, "there's just a chance to save the boat house!"

"How?" demanded Amy.

"If we could get on the windward side of that burning barge, throw a line aboard and tow it out into the middle of the lake, it could burn there without doing any damage!"

"By Jove! She's. .h.i.t the nail on the head!" declared Mr. Stone, with emphasis. "But dare you do it, Miss Nelson?"

"I certainly will dare-- if you'll help!"

"Of course we'll help! Steer over there!"

The burning hay, fanned by a brisk wind, was now sending up a pillar of fire and a cloud of smoke. And the barge was drifting perilously near the boathouse. Many whistles of alarm smote the air, but no boat was as near as the Gem.

CHAPTER XVII

ON ELM ISLAND

"Have you a long rope aboard, Miss Nelson?" asked Mr. Stone, when they had drawn near to the burning load of hay.