A mile out a railroad crossed the tide-lands, and this was the turning point. The Nooksacks made it first, closely followed by the Alaskans, and then, amid wild cheering, the three canoes headed for the viaduct. Faster and faster worked those powerful arms; the paddles whizzed more fiercely through the air; the water spurted in white sheets behind; the canoes bounded, length on length, out of the water; and louder and faster the guttural chant beat time. The Alaskans and the Nooksacks were coming in together, carven prow to carven prow, and the excitement was terrific. Nearer and nearer, neither gaining, they came. Then, suddenly, there burst a mad yell of triumph, and the Alaskan boat arose from the water and leaped almost its full length ahead of the Nooksack’s; and amidst waving hats and handkerchiefs, and almost frantic cheering—the race was won. “By the eternal!” said Diller, beginning to breathe again and wiping the perspiration from his brow. “If that isn’t worth crossing the plains to see, I don’t know what is!” But his companion did not hear. She was alternately waving her kerchief to the victors and pounding her small fists on the railing in an ecstasy of triumph. “Lavin-_ee_!” “Well?” “You come right down hyeer an’ help me em’ty this renchin’-water. I’d like to know what’s got into you! A-stayin’ upstairs half your time, an’ just a-mopin’ around when you are down. You ain’t b’en worth your salt lately!” The girl came into the kitchen slowly. “What you jawin’ about now, maw?” she said, smiling. “I’ll show you what I’m a-jawin’ about, as you call it. Take holt o’ this tub an’ help me em’ty this renchin’-water.” “Well, don’t holler so; Mr. Diller’ll hear you.” “I don’t care ’f he _does_ hear me. I can give him his come-up’ans if he goes to foolin’ around, listenin’. I don’t care ’f he does write for a paper in New York! You’ve got to take holt o’ the work more’n you’ve b’en lately. A-traipsin’ around all over the country with him, a-showin’ him things to write about an’ make fun of! I sh’u’d think Bart Winn had just about got enough of it.” “I wish you’d keep still about Bart Winn,” said Lavinia, impatiently. “Well, I ain’t a-goin’ to keep still about him.” Mrs. Vaiden poured the dish-water into the sink and passed the dish-cloth round and round the pan, inside and outside with mechanical care, before she opened the back door and hung it out on the side of the house. “I guess I don’t haf to ask _you_ when I want to talk. There you was—gone all day yeste’day a-huntin’ star-fish, an’ that renchin’-water a-settin’ there a-ruinin’ that tub because I couldn’t em’ty it all myself. Just as if he never saw star-fish where he come from. An’ then to-day—b’en gone all the mornin’ a-ketchin’ crabs! How many crabs ’d you ketch, I’d like to know!” “We didn’t ketch many,” said Lavinia, with a soft, aggravating laugh. “The water wa’n’t clear enough to see ’em.”