“We’ll go along with you to your camp,” said Tom, “and get our canoe. That is, unless you’d like to use it awhile,” he added, slyly. “Not much,” replied Harvey, with a laugh. “I’ve had enough canoeing to last me for a few days. But I’m glad I took that paddle, though, for all the narrow escape I had. It was the best accident I ever had in all my life.” “Canoeing isn’t always as easy as it looks,” said Bob, as they walked along. “By the way, we haven’t even asked you how you came to upset. It’s because we have had so much else to talk about and think about.” “Why,” said Harvey, “there isn’t much to tell. I don’t hardly know how it happened, myself. I went to change my position in the canoe, as I was cramped with kneeling in one position so long. I suppose I lost my balance a little, but I was overboard so quick I don’t know, myself, just how it did happen. I must have wrenched myself as I went over, for the minute I tried to swim I felt a pain in my side.” “That’s the way with a canoe,” said Tom. “It doesn’t always tip over. Moreover it just slides out from under one, without even capsizing at all. That’s usually when one is kneeling or sitting up on a thwart, and the centre of gravity is high in it. When one is low down in a canoe it is rare an accident ever happens. We never have had a bad spill in several years of canoeing, except when we got caught in the storm this summer, and that was because a paddle broke.” They had now reached the camp, and Tom and Bob launched their canoe and paddled away. They did not return to their own camp, however, but headed down the island. When they had reached the Narrows they carried across into the other bay, and then started down along the shore at a good clip. They were in search of Harvey’s canoe. Several miles down they found it, lodged gently on a projecting ledge. It was uninjured, beyond a little scraping of paint from the canvas, and they took it in tow and returned to the Narrows. They carried both canoes across, and then, when they had paddled up toward Harvey’s camp a way, they took his canoe up on shore and left it. That night, when Harvey’s camp was asleep, they paddled down quietly, got the canoe, and towed it out to the yacht _Surprise_. They lifted it aboard and left it there, for Harvey to find in the morning. “There’s just as much fun in that kind of a joke, after all, if one only looks at it that way,” said Tom, as they paddled home to bed. “My! but it seems good to be back in the old tent once more, eh, Tom?” exclaimed Bob, as they turned in. “Good? Good’s no name for it,” returned his chum. “The Warren cottage is fine, but I like to hear those waves creeping up on the beach as though they were coming clear into the tent. It just puts me to sleep.” The next moment bore truth to this assertion.