"Thanks awfully, Mrs. Robinson; I believe you anyway. As for Mary, she's like Sandy M'Intyre's old, toothless sheep-dog."
"How's that, Joe?" interjected Ike.
"Bark's worse than her bite."
"My stars! what originality, what refinement! Sandy's razor is not in it with master Joe Blain for sharpness. I'll remember this, though, the next time you ask me to go out to the scrub with you for passion fruit. Anyhow, there's no resemblance between you and Sandy's wonderful barker."
"Indeed!"
"No; your bark's noisy enough, but your bite's a hundred times worse—especially when pancakes are about."
With this "Roland" Mary ran out to the kitchen to get the teapot.
Joe made a royal repast, topping off with the hot pancakes at a rate which caused his father to dryly remark: "Too much pancake won't help the boat along, my boy."
Tea finished, the visitors prepare to continue their voyage. With Ike's powerful assistance the boat is shoved into the water, and her nose pointed down-stream. In due time Beacon Point is reached.
CHAPTER XIII