Walter shook his head. They waited for him to get control of his voice.
“Fag—Fagner,” he managed, “has one, new one, ordered. Said—said this spring he’d let me have it.”
“Good!” cried Richard. “Where is it now?”
“On the w-way,” Walter stuttered. “Saw him last night in Penn Yan. S-said it was on the w-way.” He took a brace and went on more smoothly. “Said it had won races out there. Said I could have the Moodiks if I wanted it; could have my choice.”
Jerry explained, “The Moodiks is probably the fastest boat on the Lake.”
“Gave you your choice, did he? Well! He’s a real sportsman, now, isn’t he?”
“He—he’s all right,” nodded Walter. “Ev—everybody’s fair ’n’ square up here.”
There was a certain tilt to his head and an odd look at Richard that both he and Jerry noticed.
“All right, Walt,” Richard spoke softly. “Got you your boat, didn’t I?”
“Sure,” but he shook his head doubtfully.