“I’ll try it,” said Ben, doggedly. He knew he would never hear the last of it from his companions if he should refuse, and even the girls would not be averse to referring to the matter.
“Get your canoe, then,” said Bessie, quickly.
“What’s the course to be?” inquired Ben.
He wished now that he had not consented so readily. If by any chance he should win the race, he could see that his rival would not take her defeat quietly; and, on the other hand, if he should be beaten by a girl, his life in camp would not be lacking in spice. And Miss Bessie was so confident and eager. Yes, he wished that he had not consented, but there was no withdrawal now.
“The course will be around the island,” explained Bessie. “It’s about half a mile and clear water. If you lose the race and are beaten by a girl,” she exclaimed, “I’ll despise you.”
“And if I win,” laughed Ben, “you’ll never forgive me.”
“If you win? Win if you can!” and she quickly took her place in her canoe and began to wield her paddle in a manner that increased Ben’s misgivings still more.
He, too, was soon ready, and as the canoes came alongside in front of the dock, one of the girls counted “One! Two! Three!” the signal agreed upon for starting, and in an instant the race was begun.
Whatever Ben thought about racing with a girl, he speedily discovered that it was no holiday task before him even to keep up with her canoe, to say nothing of passing it.