“Not much,” retorted Bill. “I’m no mule driver.”
“It’s a touching picture, that of Teddy pulling and straining, isn’t it?” laughed Lester, as he pointed to that young gentleman slumped down comfortably in the stern.
With jest and banter, the morning wore away. The day was serene and beautiful, with not a cloud obscuring the sky, while there was just enough wind to make their progress steady and rapid. Almost before they knew it, they had reached the point agreed upon with Ross, and soon after descried the Sleuth coming down to meet them.
They hailed Ross cordially, and his beaming face showed how deep and warm was his feeling for 216 the boys, whom he already seemed to have known for years rather than weeks.
“Some smart navigators, we are, to meet just where we arranged to!” laughed Lester.
“We’re the real thing in the way of sailor men,” assented Ross, throwing out his chest.
“Listen to the mutual admiration society,” jibed the irrepressible Teddy. “Blushing violets aren’t in it with them. Here you let my modest worth pass unnoticed, while you’re handing bouquets to each other. But that’s the way it is in this world. It’s nerve and gall that counts. Now if I––”
But his eloquent peroration was spoiled by a hasty shift to escape a life preserver that Lester hurled at his head, missing him by an inch.
“You’d better let me have Teddy aboard the Sleuth,” laughed Ross. “Then if the engine gives out, I’ll start Teddy wagging his tongue. That will furnish power enough.”
“Not a bit of it,” replied Lester. “I want him here, in case the wind gives out.”