Carolyn Keene. White Water Terror

“I saw him give her a strange look this morning, after we discovered the raft. Maybe he suspected then that she had wrecked it. I think he’s been keeping an eye on her all day.”

Ned’s face was tight. “Well, if that’s what he’s been doing, Paula knows,” he said. “She looked up and saw him watching her take the compass.”

“That really complicates things,” Nancy said.

Ned frowned. “Do you think Paula could have destroyed the raft?”

“It’s possible, although for the life of me I can’t think of a motive. I can’t think of a motive for her taking the compass, either. But I’m still disturbed by it—the broken radio, too. Right now, though, I want to find out what Max thinks.”

“Are you going to question him?”

Nancy hesitated. “I was going to. But instead, maybe we should keep our eye on the two of them for a while. We might learn more.” She laughed a little. “At least we’re not as lost as Paula wants us to think we are.”

Ned put his arms around Nancy’s shoulders. “Listen, Nan,” he said, turning her toward him as they walked back to face the group. “We’re in a tight spot right now, but whatever happens,” he went on, his voice getting tight, “I want you to know how much I love you.”

Nancy felt her arms go around his neck. “I love you, too, Ned,” she whispered, letting herself forget Paula, forget the river, forget everything but the kiss Ned bent down to give her.

“Nancy!” It was Bess calling. “Nancy, where are you?” Bess appeared behind Nancy and Ned, George right behind her.

“Here I am.” Reluctantly Nancy broke away from Ned’s arms.

“Nancy, you’ve got to get George off my back,” Bess begged, tears streaking down her dusty face.

“Get off your back?” George exploded. “The way I feel right now I’ll be on your back for thirty-five years—if we live that long.” George spun Bess around. “I’ve put up with lost car keys, lost plane tickets, even lost money—but this thing, Bess Marvin . . .”

“Knock it off!” Nancy held her hand up. She turned to George. “Bess didn’t lose the compass. Ned saw Paula take it out of Bess’s pocket.”

George’s eyes grew round. “Paula!” she exclaimed.

Bess stared at Nancy, consternation on her face. “Why would Paula do that? Is she trying to get us lost?”

“It’s beginning to look that way,” Nancy admitted. “Max saw her steal the compass, too, and I think he also suspects her of holing the raft.”

George put her arms around Bess. “I’m sorry I blew up at you,” she said. “Really.”

“It’s okay, George,” Bess replied, patting her cousin on the shoulder. “Everybody is uptight right now. We’re in a real mess.”

“Bess is right,” Ned said soberly. “Some of those kids—Linda and Sammy especially—look as if they might go to pieces at any minute. If George can blow up this way, others are bound to.”

“That’s what worries me,” Nancy said. “We can’t tell the others just yet about Paula taking the compass, so they’re going to continue to accuse Bess.” She turned to her friend. “Can you stick it out for a little while?”

Bess smiled weakly. “As long as I know you guys believe me.”

“George, it might be a good idea if you continued to act angry at Bess,” Nancy said. “That’ll keep Paula from getting suspicious.”

“My pleasure,” George teased. She gave Bess a friendly poke.

“George!” Bess responded, trying not to laugh.

When Nancy and her friends rejoined the group, they found them quarreling about which direction to take. Nancy could see that the group spirit was beginning to deteriorate rapidly.

“This is all your fault,” Sammy told Bess bitterly as they began to make their way through the woods again. “We’re all going to die in this wilderness, and you’re responsible!”

“Sammy’s right,” George agreed, playing her part. “If you hadn’t lost the compass, at least we would know which direction we were heading in!”

Looking unhappy, Bess didn’t answer.

Except for the occasional angry quarrels that seemed to break out with greater frequency, the group walked in silence for the next two hours. The terrain became even rougher as they moved away from the river. Walking was very difficult, especially for Linda, who was limping along with her crutch, leaning heavily on Ralph and moaning every few minutes.

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