The Rival Campers Ashore Part 18

They were on the very brink, as he spoke; and, even as he muttered the last exclamation, the canoe dipped to the incline of the chute and went darting down its smooth surface. They hardly saw the sides of the flume as they shot by. Almost instantly, it seemed, they were in the tumbling, boiling waters at the foot of it, Henry Burns crouching low in the bow, so as not to be pitched overboard; Harvey bracing for one moment with his paddle and striking the water furiously the next, to keep it on its course.

The canoe s.h.i.+pped water, and they feared it would be swamped; but they kept on. Then, as they swept past a jutting of ledge that bordered the lower sh.o.r.e, two figures standing together waved to them and cried out joyously:

"Paddle hard! Go it, Jack! Give it to her, Henry! You're way ahead.

They're not half 'round the bank yet. Hooray!"

Spurred by the cries, the two canoeists plied their paddles with renewed zeal. So on they emerged into smooth water. Away up the bank, Tom and Bob, dismayed, saw their rivals take the lead in the long race--a lead that could not be overcome.

Sitting up proudly, Henry Burns and Harvey raced past the familiar sh.o.r.es, saw the old camp come into view, shot across the finis.h.i.+ng line, and the race was won. Standing on the bank, they watched the others come trailing in: Tom and Bob not far behind; the Warren boys third, and the Ellisons last.

"Yes," said Tom Harris, good-naturedly, as they sat outside the camp a little later, "but you had to get a girl to show you how to beat us."

"How'd you know you could go through there, anyway?" he added, turning to the girl who, with Little Tim had come down the sh.o.r.e to see the finish.

"Did it to get away from gran' once," replied Bess Thornton, her eyes twinkling. "My, but wasn't she scared. It's easy, though, isn't it, Tim?"

"Easy! It's nothin'," said Little Tim.

CHAPTER X

HENRY BURNS MAKES A GIFT

It was evening, and the streets of Benton's shopping section were lighted; the illumination of windows serving to display the attractions arranged therein to best advantage. The night was warm and pleasant, and the pa.s.sers-by moved leisurely, enjoying the sights, or pausing now and then to gaze in, as some object caught their eye.

Three boys, sauntering along one of the princ.i.p.al thoroughfares, stopped abruptly as one of their number called them to a halt and pointed on ahead. The object to which he pointed was a fourth youth, who was standing, with hands in his pockets, intently absorbed in the display in one of the shop windows.

"Sh-h-h!" whispered young Joe Warren to his companions, his brother George and Bob White, "look at Henry Burns. My, but that's rich. We've got one on him, all right. Hold on, let's come up on him easy."

The boys drew a little nearer to Henry Burns, grinning broadly. Henry Burns, all unmindful of such concerted observation, continued to gaze in at the brilliantly lighted window.

The contents of the window-case were, indeed, such as one would hardly have supposed to be of interest to a youth of his age. The shop was one of Benton's largest dry-goods establishments, and the particular window was devoted wholly to an a.s.sortment of women's and misses' dresses.

Several more or less life-like figures, arrayed in garments of the season, occupied prominent positions in the display.

Directly in line with Henry Burns's vision was one of these: the figure of a girl, dressed in a neat summer sailor suit, the yellow curls of the head surmounted with a das.h.i.+ng sailor hat; its waxen cheeks tinted a most decided pink; its blue, staring eyes apparently returning the gaze of Henry Burns, unabashed at his admiration.

There was no mistaking Henry Burns's desire to form a closer acquaintance with the wax figure, for presently he approached closer to the window and stood studying it with undisguised interest.

"Seems to like the looks of her, don't he?" chuckled Young Joe, nudging Bob White and doubling up with laughter. "Wish Jack Harvey was here now to see him. Come on, let's wake him up."

Approaching softly, the three neared the unsuspecting admirer of the yellow-haired, waxen miss.

Still lost in contemplation of her, Henry Burns was suddenly greeted by a series of yells and hoots of derision that would have done credit to a wild west performance. Then roars of laughter followed, as he turned and faced them.

It was not in the nature of Henry Burns to be startled or easily disconcerted, however, and, although taken by surprise, he turned slowly and faced the three.

"h.e.l.lo," he said coolly.

"h.e.l.lo, Henry," snickered Young Joe. "Say, what's her name?"

"Yes, who is she?" echoed the other two; whereupon all three went off again into mingled roars of laughter and yells of delight.

"Dunno," responded Henry Burns. "I'll go in and ask, though, if you want."

"Isn't she sweet?" said Bob White. "How long have you known her?"

"Oh, not so long as you've known Kitty Clark," replied Henry Burns.

"Ow! wow!" squealed Young Joe; an exclamation which began in great satisfaction and terminated in a howl, as he felt the force of a punch from Bob's vigorous right arm.

It wasn't so easy getting the best of Henry Burns, in spite of his disadvantage.

"Seen Jack?" he inquired.

"No--yes, there he comes now," answered George Warren, pointing back in the direction whence they had come.

Henry Burns left them abruptly, and they went along, calling back at him mockingly. But he paid little heed. Anyone familiar with the youth would have known that he had something particular in mind; and in such case, Henry Burns was not to be turned aside by bantering.

Some five minutes later, Henry Burns and Harvey stood looking in at the very same shop window, whither Henry Burns had conducted his companion.

"Say--er--Jack, what do you think of that?" inquired Henry Burns, pointing in at the wax figure.

Harvey looked at his companion and grinned.

"Think of what!" he exclaimed. "The curls?"

"No, hang the curls!" said Henry Burns. "The dress."

Harvey stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Oh, yes," he said at length, as though endeavouring to grasp the meaning of so extraordinary an inquiry; "looks like Bob White's sister.

What of it?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Henry Burns, "only you and I are going to buy it."

Harvey's grin expanded.

"Sure," he responded. "You'd look nice in it, Henry. Only you need the curls, too--"

"And give it to Bess Thornton," continued Henry Burns, unmindful of his comrade's remark.

Harvey whistled.

"Well, I'll be skinned if I don't think you're in earnest!" he exclaimed.

"I am," said Henry Burns. "It's eight dollars and eighty-seven cents--marked down--they always are, ain't they? Half of that's four dollars and something or other apiece. Come in with me?"