“That’s what meself would like to know.”
“Is this the spot where you stepped ashore?”
Mike moved farther until his shoes touched the water. He recognized the projecting limb of a beech which had attracted his notice when he came ashore.
“There’s no mistake about the same. Now, docther, that boat can’t hev a habit of sneakin’ off whin ye’re not watching—what’s the matter?”
His companion touched his arm and pointed over the water.
“There’s the answer to your question.”
“It beats me, as the drum said to the drum stick.”
Some two hundred yards out on Gosling Lake was the canoe heading toward the western end of the sheet of water. In it were seated Biggs and Hutt, the two rascally tramps, their appearance suggesting that they were owners of the graceful craft in which they were making a pleasure excursion. Their backs were toward the two on shore, but Hutt who sat near the stern turned his head. Observing the indignant couple, he waved his hand in salutation and grinned so broadly that the gleam of his yellow teeth showed.
Neither Mike nor the doctor spoke for a moment or two. Then the youth solemnly extended his hand.
“Docther, would ye mind shaking?”