Betty at the wheel?

They were half way across the river, now-- three quarters. The gay
pleasure craft flaunting up and down the river were becoming more
numerous and Betty slackened speed. Her breath came more quickly and
her hands tightened on the wheel. She could drive a boat as well as
any boy, but here, she knew, was a situation to test her greatest
skill.

Craft of all sizes and descriptions seemed to the excited girls to be
piling up about them. Most of the boats were being navigated
carefully, but now and then a small, fast speed-craft would shoot out
from behind another so suddenly that Betty would be forced to swerve
sharply to one side, fairly grazing the stern of the racing boat.

On one of these occasions, when it had seemed impossible to avoid a
collision, Amy called out sharply:

"Oh, Betty, don't you think we had better go back?"

And Betty replied with a queer little laugh:

"Might just as well go ahead as back now. We'll be there in a minute.
Don't worry."

The words were scarcely out of her mouth when two craft running neck
and neck and driven recklessly slipped out from behind a sailboat and
drove directly down upon the Gem. It seemed impossible that the
Outdoor Girls could escape disaster.