whom Dora had called the lone pirate, she said:
"Do you suppose, Dory, that anybody will be good enough to really present the crew with a new shell?"
"Somebody's got to – if Central High is to win," declared Dorothy, vigorously.
"That's so. We can never beat East High with our old tub – let alone the Lumberport or Keyport eight."
"Leave it to Mother Wit," laughed Dorothy. "She has her thinking cap on."
"But we can't leave everything to Laura Belding," declared Dora. "She shouldn't be called upon to do everything. She got Colonel Richard Swayne interested in our Girls' Branch Athletic League, and so we are to have a fine new field, they say. That's enough for Laura to do."
"But Mother Wit is always turning up unexpectedly with something new," laughed Dorothy. "And she says we must have a new shell in time to use it in the race on the big day."
"Who's launch is that, Dory?" asked her sister, suddenly.
A motor-boat had just come into sight around a point of the island ahead.
"Why – why – Isn't that Pretty Sweet's Duchess?" asked Dorothy.
"Maybe. It's missing explosions dreadfully. Nasty thing! I don't like a motor boat."
"Well, a canoe or a sailboat is more fun, I believe, unless you want to go fast," said the other twin.
"Speed up, Dory. We can cross the bow of that boat. It is Purt's boat."
"And there are two other boys aboard."
"Chet and Lance, I declare!"
"Laura said she and Jess were coming over to the island to-day; funny the boys aren't with them."
"Then somebody else would have to go with Purt, for he could never run that motor alone. Oh, look!"
As Dorothy spoke there was a big puff of smoke from the middle of the launch and they heard the boys shouting excitedly.
"Now you've done it, Purt!" was an exclamation the twins heard.
Then flames shot up where the smoke had been and the twins both cried out.
"Their gasoline's afire! It's the tank!" exclaimed Dora.
She had scarcely spoken when there came a muffled report, another great balloon of smoke, and the launch seemed to be afire from end to end. Out of the smoke and flames three figures, one after the other, leaped into the lake, while the burning launch darted on across the path of the girls' canoe.
CHAPTER II
MISSING: THE SHORT AND LONG OF IT
"Oh! Oh!" cried Dora. "I hope they're not burned."
"But they'll be drowned!" gasped her sister.
"Chetwood Belding and Lance Darby won't drown, that's sure," returned Dora, but driving in her paddle vigorously.
"No, they can swim."
"And they won't let Prettyman Sweet drown, either."
The girls swept on at a splendid pace, paying no attention to the runaway and burning launch. They were anxious to reach the struggling boys.
"We can't take them aboard, Dora!" cried her sister.
"Of course not; but they can cling to the gun-wales – "
"And sink us."
"No, they won't."
"They'll tip us over. I don't want to get all wet," panted Dorothy.
"Here's another canoe!" cried Dora.
Out of a neighboring inlet shot a second cedar boat, also paddled by two girls.
"It's Laura and Jess!" cried Dorothy.
"Goody! now we can get the boys to shore all right," said Dora, with satisfaction. "Laura will know what to do. She always does."
Laura Belding, who was Chetwood Belding's sister, and who rejoiced in the nickname at school of "Mother Wit," was a girl who possessed a very quick mind. Her mates expected a good deal of her, therefore, and it was not surprising that Dora and Dorothy Lockwood should consider that the rescue of the three boys in the lake was a simple matter now that Laura had appeared upon the scene.
In the first volume of this series, entitled "The Girls of Central High; Or, Rivals for All Honors," Laura Belding's quick wit was displayed on several occasions – notably in her solving the problem of a fire that was discovered in the office of the principal of Central High School, Franklin Sharp.
But in that initial volume was told, too, of the beginning of after-hour athletics in Central High and of the interest the girls began to take in all manner of sports and games approved by the Girls' Branch Athletic League.
The girls of Central High had ever been loyal supporters of the boys' games – had "rooted" at all baseball, football, and rowing matches, and the like, for their particular colors; but now they were to take part themselves in various lines of athletics and sports, and their real interest in such things was, naturally, much increased.
But to properly develop the idea of the Girls' Branch Athletic League, which was formed at Central High, the need of a modern girls' athletic field was plain to both the girls themselves and their instructors. Centerport, although a moderately wealthy town, could not supply fifty thousand dollars, off-hand, for such a purpose; and that was the least sum needed for the establishment of an up-to-date building and field for winter bathing, basketball grounds, tennis courts, a cinder track, and a dancing lawn.
Perhaps Laura Belding was no more interested in the establishment of such a fine field than many other of the girls of the sophomore, junior, and senior classes. Laura was a soph herself; but she saw ways and means to an end more quickly than the others. By chance she interested a very wealthy man – one Colonel Richard Swayne. The Colonel thought that little Miss Belding was quite the quickest-witted girl he had ever met. And, later, when Laura's bright thought chanced to aid the Colonel's invalid daughter, the old gentleman began to take a deeper interest in the things that interested Laura.
So that, finally, through Colonel Swayne's generosity, the idea of a fine field for girls' athletics became a possibility. This coming summer, during the long vacation, it would be built, and the girls of Laura's class were very proud indeed of "Mother Wit."
Now the two canoes, propelled by the twins in one and Laura and her chum, Jess Morse, in the other, dashed toward the three boys in the water. The power launch, flaming merrily, was allowed to take its own sweet will across the lake.
"Now, don't you tip either of those canoes over, Purt!" Chet Belding was angrily shouting as the girls reached the trio of water-soaked voyagers. "Easy! You're not drowned yet."
"But, mercy, Chet!" squalled Prettyman Sweet, splashing madly. "I – I've swallowed – ugh! – so mu-mu-much water! Help!"
He went under again, for he could not swim. But Chet brought him up with a jerk, having still a hand upon the boy's collar.
"Stay up here!" growled Laura's brother. "Keep your face out of the water."
"But
