Part 23 (1/2)
The expedition started. Monty, who had Miss Peckham in the canoe with him--she being the only one who would ride with him--insisted upon going at the head of the procession. ”I'll paddle so much faster than the rest of you,” he said airly, ”that I'll want room to go ahead. I don't want to be held back by the rest of you when I shall want to put on a slight spurt now and then. That is the way I like to go, now fast, now slowly, as inclination dictates, without having to keep my pace down to that of others. I will start first, Uncle, and lead the line.”
”All right,” replied Dr. Grayson a trifle wearily. ”You may lead the line.”
The various canoes had been a.s.signed before, so there was no confusion in starting. The smallest of the canoes had been given to Monty because there would be only two in it. Conscious that he was decidedly ornamental in his speckless white flannels and silk s.h.i.+rt he helped Miss Peckham into the boat with exaggerated gallantry, all the while watching out of the corner of his eye to see if Pom-pom was looking at him. He had been trying desperately to flirt with her ever since his arrival, and had begged her to go with him in the canoe on the trip, all in vain.
Nevertheless, he was still buzzing around her and playing to the audience of her eyes. By fair means or foul he meant to get the privilege of having her with him on the return trip. Miss Peckham, newly graduated into the canoe privilege, was nervous and fussy, and handled her paddle as gingerly as if it were a gun.
”Ah, let me do all the paddling,” he insisted, knowing that Pom-pom, in a nearby canoe, could hear him. ”I could not think of allowing you to exert yourself. It is the man's place, you know. You really mustn't think of it.”
Miss Peckham laid down her paddle with a sigh of relief, and Monty, with a graceful gesture, untied the canoe and pushed it out from the dock. Behind him the line of boats were all waiting to start.
”Here we go!” he shouted loudly, as he dipped his paddle. In a moment all the canoes were in motion. Monty, at the head, seemed to find the paddling more difficult than he had expected. He dipped his paddle with great vigor and vim, but the canoe only went forward a few inches at each stroke. One by one the canoes began to pa.s.s him, their occupants casting amusing glances at him as he perspired over his paddle. He redoubled his efforts, he strained every sinew, and the canoe did go a little faster, but not nearly as fast as the others were going.
”What's the matter, Monty, is your load too heavy for you?” called out Miss Judy.
”Not at all,” replied Monty doggedly. ”I'm a little out of form, I guess. This arm--I strained it last spring--seems to have gone lame all of a sudden.”
”Would you like to get in a canoe with some of the girls?” asked Dr.
Grayson solicitously.
”I would _not_,” replied Monty somewhat peevishly. ”Please let me alone, Uncle, I'll be all right in a minute. Don't any of you bother about me, I'll follow you at my leisure. When I get used to paddling again I'll very soon overtake you even if you have a good start.”
The rest of the canoes swept by, and Monty and Miss Peckham soon found themselves alone on the river.
”Hadn't I better help you paddle?” asked Miss Peckham anxiously. She was beginning to distrust the powers of her ferryman.
”No, no, no,” insisted Monty, stung to the quick by the concern in her voice. ”I can do it very well alone, I tell you.”
He kept at it doggedly for another half hour, stubbornly refusing to accept any help, until the canoe came _to_ a dead stop. No amount of paddling would budge it an inch; it was apparently anch.o.r.ed. Puzzled, Monty peered into the river to find the cause of the stoppage. The water was deep, but there were many snags and obstructions under the surface.
Something was holding him, that was plain, but what it was he could not find out, nor could he get loose from it. The water was too deep to wade ash.o.r.e, and there was nothing to do but sit there and try to get loose by means of the paddle, a proceeding which soon proved fruitless. In some mysterious way they were anch.o.r.ed out in mid stream at a lonely place in the river where no one would be likely to see them for a long time. The others were out of sight long ago, having obeyed Monty's injunction to let him alone.
Monty, in his usual airy way, tried to make the best of the situation and draw attention away from his evident inability to cope with the situation. ”Ah, pleasant it is to sit out here and bask in the warm suns.h.i.+ne,” he murmured in dulcet tones. ”The view is exquisite here, _n'est-ce pas_? I could sit here all day and look at that mountain in the distance. It reminds me somewhat of the Alps, don't you know.”
Miss Peckham gazed unhappily at the mountain, which was merely a blur in the distance. ”Do you think we'll have to sit here all night?” she asked anxiously.
Monty exerted himself to divert her. ”How does it come that I have never met you before, Miss Peckham? Really, I didn't know that Uncle Clement had such delightful relations. Can it be that you are really his cousin?
It hardly seems possible that you are old enough. Sitting there with the breeze toying with you hair that way you look like a young girl, no older than Judith herself.”
Now this was quite a large dose to swallow, but Miss Peckham swallowed it, and much delighted with the gallant youth, so much more appreciative of her than the others at camp, she sat listening attentively to his prattle of what he had seen and done, keeping her hat off the while to let her hair ripple in the breeze the way he said he liked it, regardless of the fact that the sun was rather hot.
In something over an hour a pair of rowboats came along filled with youngsters who thought it great sport to rescue the pair in the marooned canoe, and who promptly discovered the cause of the trouble. It was an iron kettle full of stones, fastened to the bottom of the canoe with a long wire, which had wedged itself in among the branches of a submerged tree in the river and anch.o.r.ed the canoe firmly.
”Somebody's played a trick on us!” exclaimed Miss Peckham wrathfully.
”Somebody at camp deliberately fastened that kettle of stones to the bottom of the canoe to make it hard for you to paddle. That's just what you might have expected from those girls. They're playing tricks all the time. They have no respect for anyone.”
Monty turned a dull red when he saw that kettle full of stones, and he, too, sputtered with indignation. ”Low brow trick,” he exclaimed loftily, but he felt quite the reverse of lofty. ”This must be Cousin Judith's doing,” he continued angrily, remembering the subtle antagonism that had sprung up between his cousin and himself.
His dignity was too much hurt to allow him to follow the rest of the party now. Disgusted, he turned back in the direction of camp. By the time he arrived he began to feel that he did not want to stay long enough to see the enjoyment of his cousin over his discomfiture. He announced his intention of leaving that very night, paddling down the river to the next landing, and boarding the evening boat.