"It's more a lark than anything else." "Fine lark," grunted Sam, "scaring a kid half to death and then writing notes for money.

It's dangerously near to kidnapping--that's what I call it, and I'm glad I'm not in it." Both the others looked rather uncomfortable at this presentation of the matter, but Jack affected to laugh it off.
"Pshaw!" he exclaimed, "it's a little bit rough, I know, but such things do a kid good.

Teach him to be self-reliant and--and all that." "Sure," agreed Bill, "you don't look at these things in the right light, Sam--does he, Hank ?" Hank, who had shuffled toward the dinghy at the conclusion of these edifying remarks, agreed with a chuckle that Sam had no sense of humor, after which they all got into the dinghy and we sculled off to the unlucky hydroplane.
It didn't take long to get under way, and the little craft was soon scudding through the water at a good pace, towing the dinghy behind her.
"Better put us ashore before we get into Hampton," suggested Bill.

"We don't want to be seen about there more than can be helped." "That's where you are wrong," objected Jack.

"We'll put Hank ashore up the coast, but the more we are seen about the place the better.