But Ruth Henry had no intention of admitting her disability. It was her nature rather to gain her desire by cunning. Accordingly, she decided that this would be an opportunity for a delay.
Fortunately for her, Miss Phillips bade her canoe take the lead.
“Keep your maps handy,” she said: “and try not to make any mistakes.”
So she paddled quietly ahead for some distance, as long as the stream continued narrow. When she finally saw signs of its widening, and thus affording an opportunity for her to lose the course, she began what she hoped would prove an intensely interesting conversation.
“Now that it’s quiet enough for everybody to hear you, Captain Phillips,” she called, “won’t you please tell us all about Silvertown?”
The girls in the other canoes paddled closer, to listen.
“Well, I’ve never been there myself,” answered the Captain; “so I can’t tell you very much about it—only what I’ve heard and read.
“As far as I know it is almost an island—the river on one side, and the lake on the other. It is very beautiful, I understand—lovely tall trees, and shady walks; and the houses, which are all occupied only during the summer, are absolutely gorgeous. The whole place contains only about a thousand people—including the servants. And, since there is no hotel of any description, practically everybody knows everybody else.”
“And do you suppose they know about us?” pursued Ruth.
“They must, by this time, for our friend secured this house almost six months in advance. He was very lucky about it, too. It seems that it belongs to a wealthy New York man, whom he knows in a business way, and this man takes a yachting cruise each summer during July; so our friend was able to lease it.”