“And he was that thankful he just loaded us down with stuff—eggs, butter, and such. Couldn’t do enough for us,” Joe added, grinning at the recollection.
“History repeated itself then, for we promised the same thing,” laughed Jack.
“And he just wouldn’t take a cent in payment for the things we got,” remarked George. “But see here, Clarence, it looks like we’re in for another race between the Flash and the Wireless, to see which can get to the mouth of the Agawa first; for I hear there’s a big fish camp there, run by a man at the Soo, where they take tons and tons of white fish, the trout not being for sale.”
“I guess I get the notion that’s struck you, George; and let me say right here, I still believe the Flash to be the better boat,” Clarence went on, stubbornly.
“Shall we try it out then, tomorrow, when we leave here; in a friendly way of course, I mean?” George asked, eagerly.
“Take him up, Clarry!” said Joe.
“All right then, we’ll call it a go,” declared the other. “Only I wish we had something worth making a run for, a prize of some sort.”
“It will give me some pleasure to be the one to tell Andy Fosdick that he’s wanted bad at home,” George observed.
“Then we’ll call it a go; and this time you’d better look out for yourself, because the Flash has had a knot an hour added to her speed since we raced last. And besides, I didn’t have any heart in that trial of speed, you know. That smuggler was forcing me to run my boat, to get him out of a pickle; and for me to win only meant that my boat would be lost to me. I was really glad to play him a trick in the end, and throw the race.”
Jack and George may have had their own opinions with regard to the truth of the matter; but they knew enough to keep their tongues still. While the dove of peace hovered over the camp, it would be folly to stir these fellows up again.