The immediate answer to this remark was an “Ahoy, there, on board the Viking!” from across the water. The next moment, the familiar canoe shot into sight and Tom Harris and Bob White were quickly on deck.
“We beat you fellows by a few minutes,” said Tom Harris, laughing at Harvey.
“Look out for Jack,” said Henry Burns, with a wink at the other two. “He has been having so much fun that he doesn’t want any more. And, besides, he’s starving—and so am I; and we might eat little boys up if they plague us.”
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Tom, observing that Harvey was half-scowling as he smiled at Henry Burns’s sally.
“Oh, we have been entertaining a friend up the bay,” answered Henry Burns, “and he didn’t appreciate what Jack did for him. Seriously now, I don’t blame Jack for being furious.” And Henry Burns gave a graphic account of the adventure.
When he had finished, both Tom Harris and Bob White gave vent to whistles of surprise.
“Say,” exclaimed Bob White, “you couldn’t guess who that young chap is, if you tried a hundred years.”
“Why, do you know him, then?” cried Jack Harvey.
“Yes, and you will know him, too, before the summer is over,” replied Bob White. “That’s Harry Brackett, Squire Brackett’s son.”
“Didn’t know he had any,” exclaimed Harvey.