“Son, son,” the veteran puncher admonished, laying a hand on Teddy’s shoulder, “don’t take it so hard. We’ll find Roy, sure as shootin’! Yuh can’t down him with a little spill in the river! Like as not he’s laughin’ over it now an’ bettin’ he could have made the shore with the one paddle if we hadn’t hit that rock. Shake yore stumps, Teddy, an’ get a hold on yore liver. Roy ain’t hurt!”
Teddy took a deep breath and slowed down to a walk.
“Can’t tell, Pop,” he declared gloomily. “I’m afraid of—I don’t know what. Why didn’t Roy come right ashore if he could?”
“But great snakes, boy, he may be on the other side, or he may have been washed far downstream!” Pop exploded. “Just because he ain’t here, don’t say he’s still sittin’ out there on that bloomin’ rock!”
“That’s right, too!” Teddy agreed, and brightened. “I’ll bet he’s across from us! If we only had that canoe now, we could—”
“Oh, no we couldn’t,” Pop interrupted grimly. “That current is too blame strong. I reckon we can find the canoe all right, come mornin’. She’ll probably need patchin’, but I can fix her if she ain’t too bad.”
It was just this sort of talk that Teddy needed, and when he spoke again his voice was stronger and more spirited.
“Do you really think we can mend the canoe, Pop?”
“Sure we can! Won’t be nothin’ to it. Now, Teddy, we better give up lookin’ for Roy until she gets light. We’re only wastin’ time this way, an’ I got an idea he’s over on the other bank. If that’s so, we got to find the boat first an’ go get him. Let’s hit for camp, Teddy.”
For a moment the boy hesitated, and Pop feared he was going to insist on continuing. But at last the boy sighed, and turned.