And that was the secret of why the other fellows all admired Frank above any of their companions: he could forgive another’s fault, but was very severe with himself when he happened to fall short.
They secured the boats and carried the paddles into camp.
Will seemed inconsolable. He had heard that tremendous splash, and already understood what had caused it.
“Oh! if I could only have caught that fellow just in the act of taking that header, what a beaut it would have been. Too bad that such glorious chances escape me all the time,” he moaned.
But the others had too serious a problem to consider to pay much attention to the complaints of the amateur photographer.
“How about going to Centerville?” asked Bluff, as they sat there near the revived camp fire to talk it over.
“That can wait a while. Plenty of time between now and morning, Bluff,” answered the one addressed, as he poked the fire reflectively.
“But you’ve got something on your mind,” argued Bluff, shrewdly.
“What makes you think that?” demanded Frank, smiling.
“I can see it in your eyes; they give you away. So let’s hear what it is, for you see we’re all equally interested,” replied his chum, eagerly.