Dick, with two or three turns of his own paddle, brought the canoe in gently against the float.

Now Dave and Dick held the canoe to the float with their paddles while the other young Indians, one at a time, stepped out.

Those who had landed now bent over, holding the gunwale gently while Dave, first, and then Dick, stepped to the float.
"Up with it, braves! Out with it!" cried Dick.

The canoe, grasped by twelve hands, was drawn up on to the float, where its wet hull lay glistening in the bright July sunlight.
"You never told us you were coming up here!" cried Laura Bentley, half reproachfully.
"If you're bored at seeing us," proposed Dick, smilingly, "we'll launch our bark and speed away again." "Of course we're not bored," protested Belle Meade.

"But why couldn't you tell us you were coming ?" "We weren't sure of it until late Sunday afternoon," Dave assured her.