“How did you come to come hunt for us?” Winona called to the marshal as they went.
“You were knocked out o’ line an’ got blowed away, didn’t you?” answered the marshal.
“Then we’re going to be judged—we’re going to be judged!” she rejoiced. “Oh, do you think we may get a prize yet?”
“Shouldn’t wonder but you got something,” said the laconic marshal. “Here we be.”
He bent over and unfastened them.
“You’re late, you see,” he said, “and you’ll just have to paddle out an’ get your sentence alone.”
Winona’s heart beat frantically, but she straightened up in the canoe, and she and Billy, standing up at front and back (it was risky work with the top-heavy decorations, but they never thought of that till afterwards), paddled out into the open space before the royal float. All the other entries had been judged. Over in the place where the prize-winners were Winona had time to see that the Camp Fire float and Marie’s canoe were herded with the others. So even if she got nothing the glory of Camp Karonya was safe. It was trying to wait there alone, with everyone staring, but it did not last long. The red-and-gold herald came forward very soon.
“First prize, canoe class!” he said—and Winona almost lost her balance. “Awarded to Miss Winona Merriam of Camp Karonya, and Mr. William Lee, of Boy Scouts’ Patrol Number Six, for their entry ‘The Ship of the Fiend.’ Twenty-five dollars.”
The clapping burst out again. When it was done Winona and Billy started to paddle back to the prize-winners’ enclosure, but a gesture of the herald stopped them. They paused, a little puzzled.
“Do they want us to say thank you?” wondered Winona.