"What's that?"
By way of answer he pointed to the canoe, whispering:
"The paddle is there."
"We'll do it; it will save us a good deal of hard work, and perhaps prevent our going astray. But the owner will be likely to object."
"How can he help himself?"
"All right; in with you; there's no saying when he'll be back again."
Larry Murphy was as deft in handling the paddle as his companion, and at the same moment shoved the prow clear and leaped in. He made a couple of sweeps with the implement, which sent the boat far out over the gleaming surface.
It was well that they were so prompt in their movements, for the next minute the red man burst from the woods, and came rushing and chattering toward them as if he intended to overhaul them by swimming. His words were unintelligible, being in his native tongue, but there was no mistaking his wrath.
"I belave the gintleman is excited," remarked Larry, swinging the paddle more leisurely.
"It looks that way——"