the boat for the time that would be required to go to the house. So she leaned disconsolately against the rock, blaming herself for her carelessness and almost ready to cry,—she, the strong-minded Amy,—as she saw no way out of the difficulty.
Presently she heard a loud “halloo,” and looking up in the direction whence the cry came, at the other end of the beach, she saw a boy and a bicycle. The boy was not riding, but as he pushed his bicycle before him over the soft sand, Amy felt her heart throb quickly,—yes, it certainly was Fritz, and she gave back an answering call. It made no difference to her that Fritz was accompanied by the other boy, the one whom she had so often seen riding with him lately.
“Two will be better than one to overcome this monster,” she said, as she gazed at the great bulk of the clumsy boat.
“Hello, Amy,” cried Fritz, “trying to row on dry land? You might as well give it up. You can’t do it.”
“Oh, Fritz,” cried Amy, “is n’t this a ridiculous thing? It was one of my fits of absent-mindedness; I have n’t had one before for a long time. But I forgot that the tide was going out. I might have known, because the water was n’t very deep when I pushed up here. Do you suppose we could get it off together?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Fritz; “there are three of us.”
Amy looked toward the other boy, who had been approaching very slowly. He was not yet within hearing distance. Perhaps he had heard of the falling-out between Amy and Fritz, and politely kept at a fair distance to give
