“Oh, fine! I guess I’m doing most of the work from the feeling of my arms. Say, wouldn’t it be great if the silly old river would run the other way for awhile?”
“I wish there was another paddle,” said Hope disconsolately. “I could help if there were.”
“You’d upset the canoe if you tried to paddle from the middle,” said Jim. “How much further is it, Gil?”
“About a mile, I guess. Getting tired?”
“N-no; a little. It surely gets your muscles, doesn’t it?”
“It surely does!” agreed Gil. “It’s getting muscles I didn’t know I had!”
“Keep farther away,” warned Poke. “I need lots of room when I paddle, and you make me nervous when you come so close. Get out or I’ll splash you, Gil!”
“Don’t you try it, son! And for goodness’ sake don’t wriggle around so in your seat. If you upset we’ll lose the luncheon. I knew we oughtn’t to have let you take it.”
“Isn’t it most time for luncheon now?” asked Poke. “We might just rest a while and have a sandwich, eh?”
“Get out! It isn’t ten o’clock yet,” Gil jeered.