“Sell it you.”
Vane shook his head. “Cost too much.”
“Then, why cut it? You ought to be able to make a machine that would fit into a boat with screws, or be stuck like a box under the thwarts.”
“Yes, so I might. I didn’t think of that,” cried Vane, eagerly. “I’ll try it.”
“There,” said Macey, “that comes of having a clever chap at your elbow like yours most obediently. Halves!”
“Eh?”
“I say, halves! I invented part of the machine, and I want to share. But when are you going to begin old Syme’s conservatory?”
“Oh, dear!” sighed Vane. “I’d forgotten that. Come along. Let’s try and think out the paddles as you propose. I fancy one might get something like a fish’s tail to propel a boat.”
“What, by just waggling?”
“It seems to me to be possible.”