"Too early," smiled Dick. Nor did he allow the Gridley boys to increase their speed. Presently the "Pathfinder" led by two lengths.
"Why didn't you tell us," Hartwell demanded over his shoulder, "that the much vaunted Gridley way is 'way to the rear?"
"We haven't reached the pines yet, have we?" Dick asked.
"No; and you won't, to-day, unless you push that clumsy tub of yours along faster."
"Don't wait for us," Dick answered goodnaturedly. "We'll be here after a little while."
"We'll wait for you when we land," laughed Hartwell. "Mumble bumble!"
Another secret signal, surely, for again the "Pathfinder" began to increase the distance from the Gridley rival.
"We'd better stop, and pretend we're only fishing," muttered Tom Reade, but Dick kept grimly silent. He was watching every move of the Preston paddlers.
"Why, they're leading us four lengths," muttered Darrin, in an undertone. But Prescott appeared unworried.
"We'll try to brace our speed, by and by," Dick answered.