"You've been having some experience this morning," the man remarked to Nancy as he waited for the boys to climb in the big long boat. "Can't I give you and Ted a lift too? There's room enough if everybody obeys canoe rules," he said pleasantly. "Oh, that would be fine," Ted replied, while Nancy was thinking of what to say. "Sis fell in the pond after her fishing tackle," Ted added. "That was our first adventure." "That must be what I picked up," interrupted Mr. Sanders pointing out Nancy's pole with the cord wound around it, lying in the bottom of the boat. "Yes, that's mine," admitted Nancy, "and I'm glad to get it back for it was a special pole--one I got for a premium from a Boston store," she explained. "Well, pile in," ordered Mr. Sanders, "and you little 'uns' had best not frighten your folks with the cave-in story," he warned. "Better to be careful next time," he finished laughingly. When all were securely ensconced in the long, graceful bark, Nancy was given the extra paddle and allowed to ply it alongside Mr. Sanders. In the joy of that unusual privilege, (for she was seldom allowed in a canoe,) the accidents were quickly lost thought of, even Jack and Billy venturing to trail their fingers in the stream, while Ted sitting in the stern took chances on throwing out his line now and then just for the fun of feeling it pull through the quiet waters. As they sailed along, conversation was rather scattered, consisting mainly of snatches of questions and answers between Nancy and Mr. Sanders. The two little boys had scarcely spoken since their rescue, and now within sight of home, they were just beginning to assume normal courage. Suddenly Nancy started to titter. There was no apparent cause for her change of mood, but the more she bit her lip, looked out toward shore, bent her head toward her paddle and otherwise strove to divert herself, the more the titter gathered and broke into a laugh, over her helpless features. "Funny, isn't it?" remarked Mr. Sanders drolly. "Silly, but I just can't help laughing," she admitted. "It's at the idea--" "I wonder if I couldn't guess," interrupted the man with the strong brown arms. "It's about me, isn't it?" "Yes," admitted Nancy, slowly. "And about--about my supposed magic powers." He stopped and enjoyed a light laugh himself. "Wouldn't it be tragic if I should disappear just now?" he said so suddenly, that Nancy jerked her paddle out of the water and stared at him with a sort of guilty flush. "The idea--" she faltered.