“A hard rain could ruin our picture. Mr. Hatfield is covering it with canvas tonight—just in case. The covering will protect it from a light shower. But if it pours, the canvas probably wouldn’t keep the colors from running.”
“You fuss over that sand picture as if it were a baby, Dan!”
“Well, I want Den 2 to win the pow-wow handicraft contest.”
“Sure, but no use making yourself a nervous wreck about it. The canoe race is just as important. Mr. Hatfield told me this afternoon, he’s definitely decided to put you and me in as the contestants.”
“No foolin’?” At this information, Dan began stroking faster again. “I thought maybe he’d select Midge instead of me.”
“Midge is good,” Brad conceded. “But you have a little the edge over him. I’m glad you’re going to be my partner.”
Dan warmed to the praise, for he knew that the Den Chief always meant his words. The canoe moved through a patch of water lilies.
“Say, wait a second!” Dan cried, lifting his paddle. “Mom would like some of those lilies! I want to get a handful of ’em for her.”
Brad obediently backed water, holding the craft steady in the lily patch.
Resting his own paddle across the gunwales, Dan reached out to seize one of the flowers.