Every stroke he took he almost lay down flat, and oh, Christmas, couldn't he feather! Pretty soon we were over near the shore where the campers were.

You could see their tent in among the trees.
"You're not going to tell _them_, are you ?" I said.
But he didn't answer me, only just called out, "Hey, there, you wild Indians!" One of them came through the woods and stopped and looked at us.
"Aren't you fellows going to the boat races down at Catskill ?" Winton shouted.

"You're going to miss the time of your lives if you don't.
Better get a hustle." "What time are they ?" the camper shouted.
"Just about now," Bert shouted; "follow the old Bowl Creek bed and you'll get there quicker." Then he rowed away again.

"That'll fix 'em for to-day," he said.

"More than one way to kill a cat, hey ?" "There _are_ some races, aren't there ?" I asked him.
"Sure there are.