"That's so," says he. "And they'll not know who you are, either. I'll
go. Just hold her off."

Me with a boathook, posin' back to for the next ten minutes, not even
darin' to rubber over my shoulder. Then voices, "Have you the coffee
bottles?"--"Don't forget the steamer rugs."--"I put the olives on the
top of the sandwiches."--"Be careful when you land, Mabel dear."--"Oh,
we'll be all right." This last from Vee.

Another minute and they're down on the float, with Payne Hollister
explainin', "Oh, I forgot. This is someone who is helping me with the
boat while Tucker's disabled." I touches my hat respectful; but I'm
too busy to face around--much too busy!

"Now, Cousin Mabel," says young Hollister, "right in the middle of that
seat! Easy, now!"

A squeal from Mabel. No wonder! I gets a glimpse of her as she steps
down, and, believe me, if I had Mabel's shape and weight you couldn't
tease me out on the water in anything smaller'n the Mauretania! All
the graceful lines of a dumplin', Mabel had; about five feet up and
down, and 'most as much around. Vee is on one side, Payne on the
other, both lowerin' away careful; but as she makes the final plunge
before floppin' onto the seat she reaches out one paw and annexes my
right arm. Course that swings me around sudden, and I finds myself
gazin' at Vee over Payne Hollister's shoulders, not three feet away.

"Oh!" says she, startled, and you couldn't blame her. I just has to
lay one finger on my lips and shake my head mysterious.