“We do--usually. Last time I raced with them this pesky dory stopped short half-way across. I thought they’d bust themselves laughing. That’s why I hoped we’d meet them this morning.” “Too bad,” said Nelson. “What sort of a camp is Wickasaw?” Dan shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. “No good. The fellows sleep between sheets and sing hymns every night before they go to bed. Besides, the worst of it is, they have women there.” “Is it a big camp?” “Only about twenty fellows this year.” Presently Nelson asked another question: “Can you walk from the camp over to the village?” “Yes, there’s a good road.” Dan nodded toward the end of the lake. “But it’s pretty near two miles, I guess. I never walked it.” Crescent proved to be the tiniest sort of a settlement. There were no more than half-a-dozen buildings in sight. To the right of the landing was a high stone bridge, through which, as Dan explained, the water from the lake flowed on into Hipp’s Pond by way of a small river, and so, eventually, to Lake Winnipesaukee. “You’d better go up front,” advised Dan, “and jump onto the landing when we get up to it. Take the painter with you.” Nelson obeyed. The dory wormed its way in between a lot of rowboats, the propeller stopped, and Dan poised himself for a leap as the boat drifted in. When it was still some three or four feet away from the float he jumped. All would have gone well with him if at the very moment of his take-off the dory had not, for some unaccountable reason, suddenly started to back away. The result was that Nelson landed in five feet of water, with only his hands on the float. It was something of a task to crawl over the edge, but he managed it finally and sat down in a pool of water to get his breath. Then he glanced up and encountered Dan’s grinning countenance and understood. But he only said: “That was farther than I thought, or else the boat rocked. Throw me the painter and I’ll pull you in.” Dan, his smile broadening at what he considered Nelson’s innocence, tossed the rope and jumped ashore with the bag. “I guess I’ll let you go up alone,” said Nelson. “I’m too wet to visit the metropolis.” Dan said “All right,” and disappeared with the mail-bag. Nelson climbed back into the boat and started the motor. The sun was warm, and after taking his shoes off and emptying the water out of them he was quite comfortable. He even smiled once or twice, apparently at his thoughts. Presently Dan appeared around the corner of the nearest building, and Nelson quietly pushed the dory away from the landing. “What did you start her up for?” asked Dan. “She’ll get all hot and smelly if you do that.” “Oh, I just wanted to see if I could do it,” answered Nelson. “Pitch the bag in; I’ll catch it.” Dan did so. “You’ll have to bring her in, you know,” he said. “I can’t walk on water.” “But you can walk on land, can’t you?” asked Nelson sweetly. “Walk on--? Hold on, you idiot, you’re backing her!”