Jack stood a moment, and then Rose kissed him.
“Drat you women!” said the youngster, and walked away and down to the canoes. He went straight to his father.
“I am very much obliged to you, sir.”
“All right, old man. Off with you.”
“By George, Dick, but M. A. is a gentleman,” said Jack, as the canoe left the beach. “He might have rubbed it in, and he just didn’t.”
“How’s your nose, you small poet cuss?” said Dick. “I cut my knuckles on those sharp teeth of yours.”
“That’s what they’re for, Ruby”; and so they were away, singing as they went:
“The king shall enjoy his own again,”—
to the amusement of the two Indians.
“I should have sent the Gaspé men,” said Lyndsay to Rose, as he stood following the canoe with his eyes. “If anything happens, they would think first of the boys, and next of themselves. In Mr. Lo I have less faith.”