red and fifty pounds to the square foot. Isn't
that motor a beauty? Ninety-horse."

"Guess I'll take my joy ridin' closer to the turf, though," says I.
"Course, I've always had a batty notion I'd like to fly some time;
but----"

"Hello!" he breaks in. "There goes the Katrina!" and he points out a big
white yacht that's slippin' along through the water about half a mile
off. "It's the Beckhams'," he goes on. "They're our neighbors here at
Rosemere, you know. They have guests from town, and my folks are aboard.
By Jove! Here's my chance to surprise 'em. I say, would you mind
paddling around and giving me a shove off?"

But I stands gawpin' out at the yacht. "The Morley Beckhams?" says I.

"Yes, yes!" says he. "But hurry, please. I want to catch them."

"You--you----?" But I was thinkin' too rapid to talk much. Vee and Aunty
was out on that boat, and maybe at the next landin' Aunty would mail
them transfers. If it was goin' to hit her alone, I might have stood it
calmer; but there was Vee.

"Say," I sputters out, "ain't there room for two?"

"Why, ye-e-e-es," says he sort of draggy. "I've never taken up a
passenger, though; but I've thought that----"

"Then why not now?" says I. "I want to go the worst way."

"But a moment ago," he protests, "you----"

"It's different now," says I. "There's a party on that yacht I want to
get word to,--Miss Hemmingway. I got to, that's all! And what's a neck
more or less? I'll take the chance if you will."

"By Jove!" says he. "I'll do it. Shove off. Here, stick your oar into
the mud and push. That's it! Now climb in and give that old tub of yours
a shove so she'll clear that left plane. Good work! Here's your seat,
beside me. Don't get your knees in the way of that lever, please, or put
your feet on that cross bar. That's my rudder control. Now! Are you
ready? Then I'll start her."

Say, I didn't have time to work up any spine chills, or even say a
"Now-I-lay-me." He reaches up behind him, gives the crank a whirl, and
the next thing I know we're shootin' over the water like an express
train, with the spray flyin', the wind whistlin' in my ears, and eight
cylinders exhaustin' direct within two feet of the back of my neck. Talk
about speedin'! When you're travelin' through the water at a
forty-mile-an-hour gait, and so close you can trail your fingers, you
know all about it. Although it's a calm mornin', with hardly a ripple,
the motion was a little bumpy. No wonder!

Then a