"Well, come on!" urged his friend. "Let's get back to our own boat. What's the good of fooling here? What are you doing, Rex? Untying that canoe?"
"Untie the other, Buddie," whispered Rex. "And don't raise your voice again. You'll have that bunch down here."
"Going to set them adrift? Then they can't get away if they want to," grumbled Midkiff, yet obeying the other's command. "What's the idea?"
"Give me the other rope. Now into the water with you, Jawn. We're going to coax these away—not set them adrift."
"Steal 'em?" gasped Midkiff.
"Don't use such rude language," advised his friend. "Hypothecate—embezzling—spoliation—my boy! There are lots nicer terms than the vulgar 'stealing.'"
"Huh!" grunted Midkiff. "They all lead to the same old vulgar jail."
Rex chuckled. Both waded in to shoulder depth. Midkiff said, shortly: "Where are the paddles?"
"Ashore, I should hope. Those chaps couldn't have been foolish enough to leave 'em in the canoes. Come on! We'll tow 'em out to the Spoondrift. We don't need paddles."
"Don't see what good it's going to do us," grumbled his friend.