said Amy, in what she meant to be a cheerful voice.
"Never!" cried Grace. "I'll stay here until someone comes for us. Say, we haven't called for help!" she exclaimed, with sudden thought. "We're not so far from either shore but what we could make ourselves heard, I think. Let's give a good call!"
"That's so," agreed Mollie. "I never thought of that."
The girls looked across to the distant shores. True enough, the banks were not far off—too far to wade or swim, perhaps, but as the day was calm and still their voices might possibly carry.
"There doesn't seem to be much of a population on either side," observed Betty, grimly. "Still there may be houses back from the shore, hidden by the trees. Now, all together."
They raised their fresh young voices in a combined call that certainly must have caried to both shores. Then they waited, but nothing happened. Again they called, and again—several times.
"I'll give the first man who comes for us in a boat all the chocolates I have left," bribed Grace. No one appeared to accept.
Again they called, after a little rest, and a sipping of what remained of the orangeade. But
