"I don't know. I've already felt your claws once or twice. But you've got something funny in your head. The corners of your mouth are twitching, and your eyes are dancing like—like the river."
Cynthia cast up her blue eyes in mock admiration. "Hear! hear! He grows poetical. But as you are so very anxious to know what I am 'grinning' at," she added, demurely, "I'll tell you. I was only thinking of a little proverb I have heard. It had something to do with counting chickens before they are hatched."
"Oh, come off!" exclaimed Jack, while Neal laughed good-naturedly.
"And I've also a suggestion to make," went on Cynthia. "From what I have gathered during our short acquaintance, I think Mr. Neal Gordon isn't over-fond of exerting himself. I think it would be a good idea, Jack, when you sign your partnership papers, or whatever they are, to put in something about dividing the work as well as the expense and the profits."
"There go your claws again," said Neal. "Let's change the subject by trying to catch a 'lucky-bug.'" And he made a grab towards the myriads of insects that were darting hither and thither on the surface of the water. "I'll give a prize—this fine new silver quarter to the one who catches a 'lucky-bug.'"
He laid the money on the thwart of the boat and made another dash.
"When you have lived on the river as long as I have you'll know that 'lucky-bugs' can't be caught," said Cynthia. "Now see what you have done, you silly boy!"
For with Neal's last effort the quarter had flown from the canoe and sunk with a splash in the river.
"Good-by, quarter!" sang Neal. "I might find you if I thought it would pay to get wet for the likes of you."
"If that is the way you treat quarters, I don't wonder you think your allowance isn't big enough," said Cynthia, severely; "and may I ask you a question?"