"So you can," added Vera Rockwell. "I want you to stop," she went on, commandingly.
"Can't do it," answered Merwell, and then he winked at Poole, who had turned his head to listen to the talk.
"Well, I think you are real mean!" pouted Mary. "I shall never ask you to take me across the river again. You've kept us on the motor boat now nearly an hour!"
"If you don't land us where we want to go, and as soon as possible, I'll tell my brother," said Vera.
"Yes, and we'll tell those students in that rowboat, too," said Mary.
"You came for a ride of your own free will," said Merwell.
"We did not. We said we wanted to cross the river and you said you'd take us across."
"Well, that's what we intend to do," and Merwell grinned in a manner that disgusted all three of the fair passengers.
"If you don't land us at once, I shall cry for help," said Vera.
"We'll land you--after we've had a ride," answered Merwell, and continued to crowd the engine as best he knew how.
"Don't run too fast--I don't know the channel here!" cried Poole, somewhat alarmed. Had he had his way, he would have landed the girls long before, but he did not dare to thwart Link Merwell's pleasure. The bully took a vast delight in teasing the girls and scaring them.
"Help! help!" cried Vera, suddenly. "Help!" And then the other girls joined in the call for assistance.
"You shut up!" exclaimed Merwell, sullenly. "We are not hurting you. If you don't shut up we'll land you on one of the islands and leave you there."
"Oh!" exclaimed the third girl, whose name was Sadie Fillmore, and then she nearly fainted from fright.
The motor boat was rounding a point of the cove when there came an unexpected scraping on the bottom. Then suddenly the craft slid up on a sandbar and careened to one side, almost tumbling some of the occupants into the water.
"Shut her off!" yelled Poole, and in alarm Link Merwell stopped the engine. The girls screamed and clung to each other in terror. A little water entered the boat and this added to their fright.
"Now, see what you did!" cried Nat Poole. "We are on a sandbar."
"It wasn't my fault--I wasn't steering," answered Link Merwell.
"I told you to run slow, but you kept piling on the speed."
"Are we go--going to--to sink?" faltered Mary.