"Oh, you'll enjoy having me about, Mr. Button," said Miss Susie. "You need all the help you can get and Fred says he's going to steer in the race. He'll want me close by to tell him just what to do."
"If you speak to mo while I'm steering the boat in that race," spoke up Fred, "I'm afraid you'll find yourself where you and Mildred were yesterday when the Black Growler came along."
The fearless girl laughed derisively, but as the impromptu contest now was ended, conversation turned to other topics.
The speed under which the Black Growler was moving was somewhat diminished, but the motor-boat still was sweeping swiftly on its course.
"I hope we'll get there in time for luncheon," exclaimed Miss Susie at last breaking in upon the silence that had followed her conversation with Fred's grandfather.
"That's another thing," said Mr. Button, "that I don't approve."
"What's that?" inquired Miss Susie. "Luncheon? Doesn't it make you hungry to ride on the river?"
"When I was young," said Mr. Button, "the girls didn't gorge themselves, and many a time I have seen my sisters even at a formal dinner eat only enough to enable them to follow the courses."
"Yes, and afterwards," said Miss Susie, who was unterrified by the gloomy remarks of the old gentleman, "they used to go behind the pantry doors and eat pickles and lots of other indigestible things. I don't wonder that they had such frightful color."
"But they didn't have such 'frightful color,' as you are pleased to call it," said Mr. Button. "When they were exposed to the sunlight they wore veils and protected themselves."