They would accept no pay for their towing and chugged away, waving their hands, leaving a snowy wake behind them.
Harriet had already climbed down, and, with a long string, at the end of which had been tied the piece of broken poker from the old stove, was taking sounding to get the depth of water.
"Eight feet.

That's deep enough.

Jane! Come help me put over the anchor, please," she called.
The anchor went over with a splash, after which the rope was tied to a heavy hard wood cleat that the carpenter had secured to the forward lower deck.

The "Red Rover" drifted to the end of its anchor rope, then swung to the gentle breeze that was blowing.
"Thank goodness we aren't at the bottom of the lake," exclaimed Crazy Jane.
"It's the other folks who have reason to be thankful," answered Harriet smilingly.

"Now let's get supper.