“Well paddled, Bull,” he said heartily. “But what was the trouble? Did you strike a snag or run aground?”
“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” replied Gary indignantly. “Gee, you couldn’t do a thing, Poke, without trying to make a silly farce of it! You make me tired!”
“Farce!” repeated Poke in amazement. “Oh, now, I say, Bull, don’t be grouchy because I beat you. Shake hands and let’s forget it. It isn’t my fault if I can paddle faster than you can, is it now?”
“Paddle!” fumed Gary, climbing onto the float. “Run, you mean! You cheated!”
Poke shook his head and viewed sorrowfully the fellows who had huddled around at the first sounds of the altercation. “I thought you were a good loser, Bull,” he sighed.
“Loser! I am when I lose. But I haven’t lost. You carried across the point to Birch Island. Why, dozens of fellows saw you!”
“Oh, cut it out, Bull,” said one of the audience. “Don’t get sore about it. He beat you fair and square—”
“Of course I did,” agreed Poke soothingly.
Gary sputtered with indignation. “Fair and square! Why—why, he took his canoe out of the water and ran across the point with it, I tell you!”