“Shake hands on that, Jack,” Mr. Bliss remarked; and each of the four boys in turn did so, even carrying the friendly act out with the other skipper of the little power boat.
“The best of luck go with you all!” called out Mr. Bliss, waving his hand after them.
“Same to you, sir!” replied George, who had apparently quite gotten over the suspicions by which he had been almost overpowered earlier in the evening.
And presently, after they had pushed their way across the tongue of land lying between the two lagoons, they could only tell where the boat which they had just left lay, by the glowing light flooding out of her cabin.
Jack placed himself at one side of Josh, while George lined up on the other. But the lanky boy observed these movements with suspicion.
“Hey, what’s this mean?” he demanded. “Got an idea I’m apt to keel over any old minute, have you? Just because I did that silly thing once, now don’t you think she’s goin’ to get to be a habit with me. That’s a mistake, fellers. I’m tougher’n you reckon on, now. Come along, buck up, George, and hit up a faster pace.”
“Hold on, now,” said George, as he struggled with a vine that had caught him under the chin, and almost lifted him off his feet; “there ain’t any such hurry as all that, you know. It’s bad walking here, and I don’t feel like being strangled just yet awhile.”
“Yes, pull in your horses, Josh,” Jack remarked. “We’ll believe you’re all right without you being in such a rush about getting back to camp.”
Three minutes later Jack spoke again.