arm, his bitterness became more acute than his anxiety. "Run along!" he said. "That old gas-tub'll blow up if you ever get a back fire. Run along!"
"Look here!" Platter said. "You go on back where you belong. That canoe's about a quarter full o' water right now, and if you stopped heading her up long enough to bail, she'd capsize on you. Haven't you got any sense?"
"Run along," Nelson said. "Run along and play you're a sailor!"
Platter was irritated. "Look out or I will!" he retorted; but, disturbed by his more humane impulses, he made a magnanimous offer. "Listen! On account of your not having any more sense than to come out here on that shingle, I'll let you climb into my after cockpit; and then Claire and I'll take you back inside the harbour, where you belong. You can stay there and pretend you're out in the real ocean and have just as good a time as you think you're having now. Hurry up and climb aboard; I can't fool with you all morning."
"Run along!" Nelson said. "When you want to really learn something about boats come around and ask me; I'll give you beginners' lessons free."
