Poke thereupon carefully placed the tip of the paddle in the water, moved it experimentally, withdrew it and once more scrutinized it carefully. Cosgrove sputtered.
“For goodness’ sake, Poke, get a move on, can’t you?”
Poke appeared to have heard him for the first time and glanced across inquiringly. “Are you waiting for me?” he asked surprisedly.
“Get in line with Gary there,” directed Joe. “Get those bows even. Are you ready?”
Poke agreed that he was, and so did Gary.
Bang!
That was Joe’s pistol. Gary dug his paddle and the blue canoe darted ahead. Poke dug his paddle and the green canoe followed, but more slowly. Poke, agreed the crowd, was going to let Gary set the pace. You couldn’t fool old Poke! You’d have to get up pretty early in the morning to get ahead of him! The flotilla followed, cheering and laughing and shouting advice to the contestants.
“Go it, Bull! You’re doing fine!”
“Keep after him, Poke! Wear him out! That’s the stuff!”
“’Rah for Endicott!”