“I’ll bet you this old tub can run rings around her,” grunted Gary. “Even if she is two years old and has forty-eleven patches on her!”
“Oh, that’s been a good canoe in its day,” answered Poke airily. “But they’re making ’em better now, Bull. Look at the lines on this old top. Pretty neat, what?”
“Too broad,” said Gary. “She’s built for comfort but not speed, Poke.”
“Speed! Why, this canoe has the Empire State Express spiked to the rails! Speed! Honestly, Bull, you pain me.”
Gary grinned. “We’ll race you back to the boat-house,” he offered. “If we don’t beat you by half a dozen lengths I—I’ll—”
“Apologize,” suggested Poke. “We accept your challenge, sir.”
“But, Poke,” said Jeffrey, “they’re bound to beat us.”
“Of course we are,” Gary laughed. “Latham’s got a lot more sense than you have, Poke.”
“He is thinking of the fact that I am a very poor canoedler,” said Poke. “This is only the second time I’ve ever tried it. But that doesn’t matter because, as I have previously remarked, Bull, this canoe paddles herself. Turn your old derelict around and get ready.”