“What did you start her up for?” asked Dan. “She’ll get all hot and smelly if you do that.”
“Oh, I just wanted to see if I could do it,” answered Nelson. “Pitch the bag in; I’ll catch it.”
Dan did so.
“You’ll have to bring her in, you know,” he said. “I can’t walk on water.”
“But you can walk on land, can’t you?” asked Nelson sweetly.
“Walk on—? Hold on, you idiot, you’re backing her!”
“Must be something wrong with her,” replied Nelson calmly. He reached for the tiller-line, swung the dory’s nose toward the camp, shot the lever forward, and waved gaily at Dan. “It’s only two miles, you know,” he called, as the boat chugged away. “And it’s a good road!”
He looked back, expecting to hear Dan explode in a torrent of anger. But he didn’t; he merely stood there with his hands in his pockets and grinned. Half-way across the lake Nelson turned again and descried Dan’s form crossing the bridge on the road back to camp. Nelson winked gravely at the mail-bag.