He didn't get much further, for a canoe shot in to shore, and from the bow of it sprang John Ellison. He seized his cousin by the shoulder.
"You will tell tales, will you?" he cried.
"Let me alone," replied the other, striving to shake off John Ellison's grasp, but failing. Then he added, as the other canoes came in to shore and the boys stepped out of them. "Can't you take a joke?"
"No, not when you've done the same kind of a thing before," exclaimed John Ellison. "Come on, fellows, in with him."
Ready for any kind of a rough joke, several of the canoeists laid hands on the unfortunate Benjamin.
"Most too many against one," remarked Henry Burns, quietly. "Better let him go."
"No, he's got to be ducked," insisted John Ellison, whose anger was aroused.
"Well, only a little one," assented Harvey, grinning good-naturedly. So they held the luckless youth heels over head and plunged his head beneath the surface up to his coat-collar. He was sputtering wrathfully as they lifted him out again.
"Going to tell on us?" cried John Ellison.
Benjamin Ellison glared at his cousin, doubtfully.