Then he swung the war canoe about, heading toward camp.
That proved not at all to the crowd's liking.
"Come back, Prescott! This way, Gridley! We want you!" "Why don't you land, Dick ?" queried Tom Reade.
"What! Land at the mercy of that crowd!" exclaimed Prescott.
"That is a Gridley crowd.

They're so pleased over our winning that what they'd do to us might be worse than what they'd have done if we had lost." "Where are you going ?" asked Dave, somewhat disappointed.
"Camp is good enough for us, I guess.

It's a safe place, anyway," Prescott replied.
A few minutes later the "Scalp-hunter" touched lightly on the beach in front of camp.
Towser greeted them with a joyous bark.
"So you've been watching the race instead of the camp, have you ?" demanded Tom, eyeing the dog in mock reproach.
"Oh, but I'm tired!" muttered Darrin, after they had beached the canoe.

"This green grass looks inviting." He threw himself down at full length on the grass.
"Up, for yours," commanded Dick, grasping him by one arm and pulling Dave to his feet.

"Don't you know that your blood is almost at fever heat after the strain of the race?
Do you want to get a chill that will keep the whole camp up to-night ?" "I want to lie down," muttered Darrin.