"Why, certainly. That was what you wanted—to go back; wasn't it?"
"We haven't got to race back, have we?"
"I'm not racing; but I thought you wanted to get out of this hot sun."
"Dave, I think you're angry with me," returned Jessie, reproachfully, but she did not raise her eyes as before. Instead she kept them fastened on the bottom of the canoe.
"Angry? What foolishness! What is there for me to be angry about?"
"Oh, you know well enough."
"I don't see why you should feel so cut up over Miss Ford. I can't help it if she is grateful—as you put it—for my saving her from drowning; can I?"
"Oh, it isn't that, Dave. Of course she ought to be grateful. But you—you——" Jessie's voice broke a little and she could not go on.
"Me? I haven't done a thing! Didn't you hear me tell her to quit it?"
"Oh, it wasn't what you said. It was——But never mind, let us get back to the bungalow." And Jessie kept her eyes on the bottom of the canoe, refusing to look at her companion.