The canoe was
headed for the first channel. The solution came when a low but
clear whistle signaled over the water. Almost instantly there came
a responsive whistle from up the channel.
Philip drew a quick breath, and a new sensation brought his teeth
together in sudden perplexity. It looked as though he had a bigger
fight before him than he had anticipated.
At the signal from up-stream he heard the quick dip of paddles,
and the canoe cut swiftly toward him. He drew back the hammer of
Pierre's rule, and cleared a little space through the reeds and
grass so that his view into the channel was unobstructed. Three or
four well-directed shots, a quick dash out into the stream, and
he would possess Jeanne. This was his first thought. It was
followed by others, rapid as lightning, that restrained his
eagerness. The night-glow was treacherous to shoot by. What if he
should miss, or hit Jeanne--or in the sudden commotion and
destruction of his shots the canoe should be overturned? A single
error, the slightest mishap to himself, would mean the
annihilation of his hopes. Even if he succeeded in directing his
shots with accuracy, both himself and Jeanne would almost
immediately be under fire from those above.
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