“I’m going! I’m going! I’m go—” shouted Ben.
It was evident that he had spoken truly. For a time or two he succeeded in righting his craft, but each effort seemed to make his condition worse. Suddenly the canoe went over; the paddle in Ben’s hands flew out over the water, and then the lad’s long legs and feet appeared to be lifted into the air, and waved frantically for a moment before, with a circular movement, they followed their owner and quickly disappeared in the river.
“Going, going, gone!” called Bob, solemnly, as he gazed out over the water at the place where his friend had disappeared.
Ben was an expert swimmer, much the best of the four, so that they had no fears for his safety; and the ludicrous sight of those long legs, with what Bob called “their despairing appeal to come over and help us,” disappearing in the St. Lawrence, was more than either could endure. They burst into shrieks of laughter. They hugged each other in their delight, and even Bob laughed until the tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Suddenly the Canoe went over.”
But Ben speedily appeared, and as he started out for the dock, Bert called to him, “Your canoe’s going down the river, Ben; so’s your paddle.”
“The proper way, my friend, to paddle a canoe is from the upper, not the under, side,” said Bob, soothingly. “Take my advice, Ben.”
Ben was for taking the canoe, however, which already was drifting away from him; but as he started to swim toward it, Jock swept past him, and, calling to him to go ashore, said that he would get both canoe and paddle.
When Ben climbed in his dripping clothes up on the dock, the laughter of the boys was renewed.