"But perhaps this is because he is used to giving orders," she reflected.
"Yes; we are on a sand bar, I'm afraid," she answered, and smiled.
"Look natural!" she commanded to the others a moment later, her voice not reaching the men in the other craft, she felt sure, for the clutch of the relief boat had been thrown out and the engine was racing, making considerable noise. "Look as though we expected this," Betty commanded. "There's nothing to fear. We are not far from home."
"Lots of folks get stuck on that bar," went on the man, who was bringing his boat into a position favorable for giving aid to the Gem. "It ought to be buoyed, or marked in some way. You're strangers around here, I take it," he went on.
"Yes, from Mr. Stonington's orange grove," said Betty, simply. "If you will kindly pull uf off this bar we will gladly pay you for your trouble."
Was it fancy, or did Betty detect fierce and eager gleams in the eyes of the colored men?
"Oh, shucks!" exclaimed the steersman, quickly. "I've pulled lots of bigger boats than yours off that bar. And not for pay, neither, Can you catch a rope?"
