Part 23 (2/2)

Of course though, both sentries were glad to see the first peep of dawn in the far east. The wind had died down, and there seemed to be some chance that the wild waves would subside by noon, at least sufficiently to allow them to go forth if by any good luck they were given the opportunity to leave the island upon which they had been marooned by so strange a freak of fate.

The others were soon aroused, and made out to have just allowed themselves a few winks of sleep toward morning, though they cast suspicious looks toward each other, Thad noticed. However, neither he nor Allen said a word about the hours that they had been by themselves on guard. The dreaded night had pa.s.sed, and nothing out of the way had happened, so what was the use of rubbing it in, and making some of their good chums feel badly.

”I think it would be possible to see the place where we left our boat, if I went out on that point there,” Thad remarked, while some of the rest were busying themselves in getting breakfast ready, as though meaning to make all the amends possible for their lack of sentry duty.

As though he wished to make sure concerning this matter the scout-master left them, and made his way to the lookout he had indicated. He came back later on, and his face did not seem to show any signs of good news.

”No boat in sight, I take it, Thad?” asked Giraffe, rightly interpreting his lack of enthusiasm.

”It's sure enough gone, and look as hard as I could there didn't seem to be the first sign of the poor Chippeway Belle. Dr. Hobbs' friend will have to buy him another cruising boat, that's sure,” Thad told them.

”Well, he can do that, all right, out of the insurance money he collects from that old tub,” declared Giraffe, indignantly. ”Let me tell you he's been hoping we might sink the thing, somehow or other.”

Breakfast was a bountiful meal, because Giraffe happened to be a fellow who disdained half-way measures, when it came to feeding time. The idea of going around half starved so long as there was the smallest amount of food in camp did not suit him at all.

So they ate until every one, even Giraffe, announced that he had had enough; but by that time the frying-pans were empty, and the coffee-pot ditto, so perhaps it may have been this condition of things that influenced some of them to confess to being filled.

The face of the tall boy had become clouded more or less, and it was evident to the scout leader that Giraffe was busily engaged in pondering over something that did not look just right to him.

”What's the matter, Giraffe?” he asked, as they lounged around, enjoying the fire, because the morning had opened quite cool after the blow of the previous night.

”I don't like this thing of an empty pantry, that's what!” observed the other, who could not forget that in less than five hours there was bound to be a demand from somewhere inside that he get busy, and supply another ration; and where was he to get the material to carry out this injunction when their supplies were practically exhausted.

”Well, we can't do anything about it, can we?” demanded Step Hen, trembling in the hopes that the tall scout might have thought of a plan.

”That's just like some fellows,” remarked Giraffe, disdainfully; ”ready to throw up the sponge at the first show of trouble. Now, I ain 't built that way; and say, I've thought up a plan by which we might get some grub.”

”Yes, what might it be?” asked Thad, seeing that the other was waiting for a little encouragement before bursting out into a display of confidence; for he knew Giraffe's ways to a fraction.

”I tell you what we ought to do,” the other suddenly explained; ”march on that cabin in a bunch, looking mighty determined, and then demand that they supply us with what grub we need to tide us over. There you are; and how about it?”

CHAPTER XXIII

WHERE WAS b.u.mPUS

”Huh? I don't all speak at once, please. Seems like my splendid idea ain't made a hit like I expected it would. What ails you all?” Giraffe demanded, after a dead silence had fallen upon the little party, instead of the quick response he had hoped for.

”We're waiting to hear from Thad,” explained Step Hen, as though he might himself be ”up in the air,” or, as he would himself have said, ”straddling the fence,” not knowing whether to scoff at the other's scheme, or give it his unqualified approval.

”Well, I wanted to figure it over in my own mind first,” remarked the scout-master, slowly. ”It has some good points, Giraffe, but we'll have to get good and hungry before we start to holding up other people and demanding that they supply our wants, even if they are only fish poachers.”

”Then you don't think we had ought to rush the cabin, as yet?” asked the other in a disappointed lone.

”Wait awhile; and see what turns up,” Thad told him.

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