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"I guess this chunk of ven'zon is about cooked, Doc," said this personage, as Dol's kindly host entered the hut, with him in tow, followed closely by the boys of his own camp. "All right, then! Let's have it!" was the reply.
You may proceed with absolute safety." "The responsibility is yours, Jane, for we had an awful time for a brief interval under the doughty Dol's roof. Things flew " "Hair brushes and sponges?" prompted Janet, eager for sensation.
The camp-fire was almost dead, quenched by the dazzling sunlight which fell in patches on the camping-ground, and flooded the clearing beyond the shadow of the pines. Moreover, the camping-ground was deserted. Neither Uncle Eb nor Tiger could be seen, though Dol's eyes sought for them wistfully. But something caught his attention.
But he had a vague impression that the mysterious singer in the deserted camp attached no meaning to what he chanted. "Look out, I say! I don't want to come a cropper here." It was Dol's young voice which rang out shrilly among the mountain echoes.
"Oh, I say! wouldn't it be decenter to manage the thing ourselves, without letting anybody who doesn't know him meddle in it?" This suggestion was in Dol's voice. "Neal and I could draw our allowances for three months in advance; the Pater will be willing enough. We'll be precious hard up without them, but we'll rub through somehow.
However, it answered admirably for carrying the tent, knapsacks, and trophies of the party, tightly strapped in place, including Neal's bear-skin, which was duly called for, and the moose-antlers, more precious in Dol's sight than if they had been made of beaten gold.
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