“We’re all in the same boat, Davy,” Step Hen told him, in order to “smooth his ruffled feathers,” as he called it.
“And I’ll time you on that promise, Thad,” remarked Allan, as he took out his little nickel watch, and held it close up to his face in order to see where the hands pointed, which action in itself proved the contention of Giraffe that the daylight was certainly growing quite dim.
They continued to plod along, now and then some one making a remark, and all of them looking continually to the right, in hopes that they might discover a haven of refuge in the shape of some sort of house, they cared little how unpretentious it might be.
Indeed, just then there was not one scout present but who would have hailed the appearance of even an old abandoned shanty having a leaky roof with delight; for with their ingenuity a worn-out roof could easily be made to shed rain; and a supply of firewood was to be gathered in a hurry.
The formation of the country was not favorable in one respect, and they failed to run across anything in the shape of an outcropping ledge, under which they might find shelter. This had saved them from a ducking on more than one former occasion, as they well remembered; but fortune was not so kind to-day.
Minute after minute dragged on.
Once Allan even took out his watch, and examined its face, only to laugh.
“Beats all how you get fooled when you’re counting the minutes,” he remarked.
“You mean we haven’t been walking that ten Thad allowed us?” asked Step Hen.
“Just six to the dot, boys,” the timekeeper told them.