"That's all right. Bess is too erratic. One day she paddles well and the next she is 'way behind. It's her temperament. She's not a steady old warhorse like yourself, Wynnie." "Thanks," laughed Wyn. "How about Polly? What do you call _her_?" "I don't know. I admire her vastly," said Frank. "But Polly puzzles me. And I haven't seen her working at the paddle much. I only know that in a skiff she can out row any of the Busters." "I fancy she can paddle some, too. And her canoe is as light as a feather. All those birchbarks are." "The judges may handicap her, then. But, hullo! what's that Dave Shepard up to?" Wyn turned to look at her next-door neighbor. Dave was writing upon a slip of paper. Once he looked across at Frank and Wyn and saw that the two girls were watching him. He seemed confused, started as though to tear the paper up, and then hid it under a coil of rope at his feet. But he was very particular to hide every particle of the paper. "What you doing there, Dave?" demanded Frank, with plain curiosity. "Oh, nothing," responded the youth, and rose up, stretching his arms and yawning. It was plain that he did not wish to be questioned. "What was that paper?" pursued Frank. "Oh--that--er----It's of no consequence," declared Dave, and walked aft so as not to be further questioned. "Now, he can't fool me!" cried Frank, under her breath. "It _was_ something of consequence. I--I'm going to see." "I wouldn't," said Wyn. "Why not?" "Well--whatever it is, it isn't ours." "Pooh!" "And he evidently didn't want us to see it." "For that very reason I am going to look," declared Frankie. And the moment Dave was out of sight she sprang across the deck and lifted up the rope enough to pull out the paper. The moment she scanned it, Wyn saw Frankie's face turn very red. She looked angry, and stamped her foot. Then she burst into a giggle, and slid the paper back out of sight again. She came back to her friend with a mixture of emotions expressed on her countenance. "What do you suppose?" she demanded. "Suppose about what?" asked Wyn. "What do you suppose Dave wrote on that paper?" "I give it up. Something that didn't concern us, as I told you." "You're wrong," cried Frank, divided between wrath and amusement. "And it's just the very _meanest_ thing!" "Why, you excite my curiosity," admitted Wyn. "That's what he did it for," declared Frankie. "_What_ did he write?" cried Wyn. "Out with it." "He wrote: 'I bet an ice-cream treat all around that your curiosity will not permit you to leave this alone.' Now! could anything be meaner?" "Ha, ha!" chuckled Wyn. "Don't you see? We can't claim the treat without giving ourselves away? I believe I'll join forces with Bess. There _is_ nothing meaner than a boy." "Never mind," said Wyn. "I'll find some way of making Master Dave pay for the ice-cream treat, just the same. You see if I don't."