As he speeded up his craft, the lad looked about,
thinking he might catch sight of Andy Foger, for the bully also
owned a boat, called the Red Streak and, more than once, in spite
of the fact that Andy's craft was the more powerful, Tom had
beaten him in impromptu races. But there was no sign of his rival
this morning, and Tom kept on to Waterfield. He found that Mr.
Damon had not yet returned home.
"So far I've had my run for nothing," mused the youth. "Well, I
might as well spend the rest of the morning in the boat."
He swung his craft out into the lake, and headed back toward
Mansburg, intending to run up to the head of the body of water,
which offered so many attractions that beautiful morning.
As Tom passed a small dock he saw a girl just putting out in a
rowboat. The figure looked familiar and, having nothing special
to do, the lad steered over closer. His first view was confirmed,
and he called out cheerfully:
"Good morning, Miss Nestor. Going for a row?"
"Oh! Mr. Swift!" exclaimed the girl with a blush. "I didn't
hear you coming. You startled me."
"Yes, the engine runs quite silently since I fixed it," resumed
Tom.
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