We're not doin' Chinamen's work in this
race to-day for that. No, sir! We're teachin' him to paddle his own
canoe." Not finding the sympathetic response he looked for in the Right
Bower's face, he turned to the Left.
"I reckon we were teachin' him our canoe was too full," was the Left
Bower's unexpected reply. "That's about the size of it."
The Right Bower shot a rapid glance under his brows at his brother. The
latter, with his hands in his pockets, stared unconsciously at the
rushing water, and then quietly turned away. The Right Bower followed
him. "Are you goin' back on us?" he asked.
"Are _you_?" responded the other.
"No!"
"_No_, then it is," returned the Left Bower quietly. The elder brother
hesitated in half-angry embarrassment.
"Then what did you mean by saying we reckoned our canoe was too full?"
"Wasn't that our idea?" returned the Left Bower, indifferently.
Confounded by this practical expression of his own unformulated good
intentions, the Right Bower was staggered.
"Speakin' of the Old Man," broke in the Judge, with characteristic
infelicity, "I reckon he'll sort o' miss us, times like these.
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