"Want to spear that canoe. I can get her over—and yonder's the paddle," Horace responded.
"Why so hurried a departure?" demanded Kingdon, smiling at him. "Aren't we hospitable enough?"
Horace made no answer, quickly drawing the overturned canoe within reach. Cloudman helped him, and they soon had the canoe out of the water, emptied, and again on its keel.
"Why the rush?" Kingdon asked.
Pence, still speechless, got into the canoe with care. His paddle was within reach, and he seized upon it. Then he drove the canoe back toward his own camp at an easy clip.
"Social sort of a beggar," grumbled Red Phillips. "Didn't even stop to thank us for saving him from a watery grave."
"Better get after that launch, Rex," Midkiff said. "She's still burning."
"Right-o!" agreed the curly-haired chap. "If she keeps on she may bump her nose into those rocks across the sound. See if you can start our engine again, Jawn."
The Spoondrift's engine, after some sputtering, concluded to pop regularly, and Rex went back to the helm. The speed of the catboat under its auxiliary was not great; but the breeze was so light that they would have made small progress by hoisting sail.
The constable crept down into the cockpit, coughing and ill.