“Why don’t you stay overnight with us?” asked Mrs. Carey. “You really ought not to go out on the lake in canoes a day like this.”
“That’s so,” said her husband. “No sense in it at all. You stay right here until this storm blows over. If you like, in the morning I’ll take you up the lake on the yacht. I can get you up to Northwest Bay in no time.”
But Bob thanked them and declined. And Tom sighed dolefully. So a half-hour later they took their departure amid cordial invitations to come again. Mr. Carey walked around to their landing-place with them and was much interested in their canoes and outfit. And after they were afloat and paddling away he waved to them from the shore and laughingly cautioned them not to get drowned.
Tom was loud in his expressions of disfavor of their course.
“Don’t see why you fellows wouldn’t stay,” he grumbled. “Gee! you don’t know when you’re well off. Think of the supper and breakfast we’ve missed! And the dandy beds! And that peach of a fire! And——”
“Mind your paddle,” said Bob. “You’re kicking up an awful mess with it. If you can’t do better than that you’d better take it out.”
And Tom, still protesting under his breath, set to work again.
Bob, who had fallen naturally into the position of chief navigator, had planned to keep down the southwest side of the lake to West Alton and camp near the village for the night. The next morning they would start early and cross to Wolfeborough, take the forenoon steamer back to The Weirs, and from there return to Camp Chicora by the afternoon train. But once past the shelter of the island they began to doubt their ability to make West Alton. The wind had swung around into the south, and to hold the canoes in an easterly direction was a difficult task. After laboring some time with little success Bob decided to run across the lake before the wind in the direction of Long Island and go into camp on one of the smaller islets thereabouts or, failing that, on the mainland. So they swung the canoes about and headed north-by-east and found a chance to rest their tired muscles. With the wind almost directly aft it was only necessary to paddle easily and keep the noses of the craft in the right direction. The canoe containing Bob and Tom, being somewhat less heavily weighted, rode higher out of water and consequently presented more surface to the wind. As a result, when they were half-way across the lake they were leading by almost an eighth of a mile. Nelson suggested catching up with them, but Dan objected.
“Let them go,” he said. “I’m tuckered out and I’m going to rest. That was a pretty hefty bit of paddling back there, Nel; we made about a foot to every ten strokes. I’m wet through with perspiration.”