“He thinks that white boat is his,” exclaimed Josh, pointing as he spoke, “but that’s all wrong, Algernon, and you’re off your trolley, sure. They had one of the same color, if not as good a boat as yours; and they’ve kindly left it for you, with their compliments. That was about what he meant when he shouted across the water, you know.”
“Jack, what are you thinking about now?” demanded George, who knew from the signs that the other was turning some sort of idea over in that active mind of his.
“I was wondering whether we wanted to take another turn with these fellows, that’s all,” replied Jack, immediately.
“But—they’ve cleared out, you know!” said Buster, blankly, as he looked over the bright surface of the river, as though wondering however a fellow was going to walk on the water.
“Well, haven’t we got boats to follow them with?” demanded Josh, who was quicker-witted than his stout chum.
“And one of ’em a crack-a-jack for speed,” added George, proudly.
“When it’s going, you mean, George,” corrected Josh; at which sly thrust the party indicated simply curled his lip, and disdained to reply.
“Well, whatever we decide to do, the sooner we settle the matter the better,” remarked Jack, impatiently, something rather uncommon with him.
“Sure thing, because they’re putting up a hefty run of it right now, and can do it right along with that boat,” added Josh.
“What speed can she make, Algernon?” queried George.