Kenny approached.
"I--I beg your pardon," he said, wiping his forehead.

"I'm sorry." Joan came to the door and stared.
"Kenny!" she exclaimed.

And her voice had in it a note of distress.
She glanced at Mr.Abbott, who glanced in turn at Kenny with an air of gentle inquiry.

His confidence in Mr.O'Neill, never very robust, had waned that day upon the river.

It was weakening more and more.
Tongue-tied and scarlet, Kenny stared into the cabin.