“I will give you just as good a boat, sir—”
“As good a boat! You haven't a boat like it. How do I know you don't let my boat out for hire every day?”
“No danger of that, sir; I will give you another boat, one that you will be pleased with.”
“My boat knocked about by some cad! He won't be back till nine o'clock to-night, perhaps. I never heard of such a thing. Which is it?”
“That one with the lady in the stern—the red parasol.”
“He must be caught up, he must. Have you got an outrigger?” Assuring Lizzie that he would be back in less than half an hour, Frank bent to his work.
“If he rows like that he will run down some one,” muttered the boatman. “Confound him and his boat!”
The outrigger shot through the water; the various craft paused, surprised at such furious rowing. Lizzie watched the race, asking the boatman if there was danger.
“Danger? No; but he'd better not say too much to that gent when he does catch him up, or there'll be a row, I expect. He's going round the bend; if he doesn't run into something, he'll catch them,” said the boatman. “Would you like to look through my glass, miss? They'll be coming back presently.”
Angry language was indulged in, but the apologies of the boatmen saved the young men the unpleasantness of blows, and, elated at his success, Frank handed Lizzie into the truant boat and paddled out into the stream. When he had got out of earshot and out of the notice of the boat-house he rested on his oars. “Did you see me overhaul them?”