Part 12 (1/2)
”I asked, because we've got to stow those aviators somewhere. Perhaps the joint runs to an attic. That will do just as well.”
”Well, we'll find a good place for them,” replied the Seminole, intent on his cooking. ”Confound them! These aviators of Martinengo's live like kings. A house to themselves, all kinds of good things to eat, and we poor devils pigging it a stone's throw away!-Better break open some more of those cans. I see tomatoes, corn, asparagus and cherries on that shelf. Let's sample them all. I haven't had a decent meal, let alone half enough to eat for weeks. How about it? Have you got an appet.i.te?”
”_Have_ I!” Bill began opening the other cans and dumping their contents on plates which he placed on the kitchen table. ”I'll tell you one thing and that is, we eat the rest of this as is. I can't wait for cooking.
Bring over that skillet of eggs and corned beef. I'll get the coffee.
The smell of this stuff has turned me ravenous!”
Half an hour later, the two lads drained the last dregs of their coffee and grinned sleepily at each other across the table.
”Some feed!” Bill yawned and raised his arms above his head. ”I bet we've got away with three days' rations. Gos.h.!.+ One more crumb and I'll bust! Do you think it's safe, now, to turn in? I could go to sleep standing up.”
Osceola rose slowly to his feet. ”Of course it's safe, Bill. I wouldn't take a chance-not at this stage of the game, you know.”
”But how about the lad who cooks for our aviator-friends? He'll mosey along here in the morning, and when he finds _us_ sleeping here, there'll be the devil to pay!”
”Oh, no, there won't! I know the man who acts as their servant, luckily enough. He's a sort of trusty-been here a long time-but he is locked up in our prison house every night. That chap is just as keen to get back to his home and his people as we are. There won't be a peep out of Sam.
Our worries will begin again when we leave this place in the morning--But sufficient unto the day--”
”Good enough!” enthused Bill, also leaving the table. ”That being the case, I vote we put the careless aviators in a good safe place. Then me for bye-bye P.D.Q.!”
”If you think,” grinned Osceola, ”that _I'm_ going to stay up and wash dishes ...” he yawned, ”you've got see-vee-rial thinks coming!”
CHAPTER X-WHAT HAPPENED IN THE MORNING
”Eight o'clock, suh! A fine hot day-an' yo' baf is runnin'.”
Bill opened his eyes and stared upward from a soft pillow into the grinning face of an ancient negro.
”Ise Sam. Reckon Ma.r.s.e Osceola done tell yo'all 'bout me. Yessuh-yo' baf is runnin'.”
Bill stretched and sat up in bed. ”Pinch me, Sam,” he yawned. ”Did you really say 'bath'-or am I still sound asleep?”
”No, suh, yo' sure is awake, Ma.r.s.e Osceola has just got out o' the tub.
He done tol' me to wake yo'all.” The old darkey seemed a bit fl.u.s.tered.
”Ef yo'll kindly tell me how yo' likes yo' eggs, Ma.r.s.e Bolton, I'll go on in de kitchen and dish up breakfast.”
”Sam,” said Bill, springing out of bed. ”You're a sight for sore eyes, and your voice is music. Lead me to that bath you mentioned, and lead me quick. Real soap and clean water! Gee-it's wonderful!”
”An' de eggs, suh?”
”As long as they are fresh and there's plenty of them, you cook them any way your heart desires.”
”Yessuh--I will, suh. De bathroom's through dat door over yonder.”
Thirty minutes later, two spruce young fellows in freshly laundered uniforms of white duck met at the breakfast table in the dining room of the bungalow.
”Is it really the wild Seminole chief, Osceola?” grinned Bill as he stood and gazed admiringly at his friend.