"They'll raise the draw if we whistle, I suppose, but we don't need to." "We'll scrape our funnel, as sure as shooting!" cried Perry as the cruiser neared the bridge.
"We'll miss by two feet," answered Steve untroubledly.
They held their breaths and watched nervously as the shadow of the bridge fell across the boat.

Then, with the sound of the engine and exhaust echoing loudly, the cruiser dug her nose into the out-running tide and shot safely through to emerge into a narrow canal that stretched straight ahead before them until it joined the river.

They breathed easier as the bridge was left behind.

Once in the river it was necessary to go cautiously and watch the channel buoys, for the chart showed a depth of only four feet at low tide for the first mile and a half.

If they had not all been so absorbed in the fate and recovery of the _Follow Me_ they would have enjoyed that journey down the Squam River immensely, for it was a beautiful stream, quiet and tranquil in the morning sunlight.