It was the next morning that Allan and McConnell developed their plates and films. Allan had two wrongly focussed pictures, and McConnell had made a double that perched a goat on the back of a dromedary. But most of the pictures were good, and gave both boys a great deal of delight.
“Wait till Bill sees this!” exclaimed McConnell, holding up his picture of the lion cage.
Allan highly prized a picture of the eagles, and another of the club emerging from one of the arches under the drive.
“Do you know,” said Allan, “the club won’t be taking another outing for a couple of weeks. I wish we could go to Coney Island before that. If we wait two weeks they might not want to go there, and I’m afraid if the weather gets cooler the season will be over in a week.”
“What do we care for the season?” asked McConnell.
“The season doesn’t make any difference to the ocean,—except that it’s the clearer, I suppose, when so many people don’t wash in it; but it makes a great deal of difference at the beach. It’s the people I care for, the people and all the things they have there to show the people.”
“That’s so,” said McConnell.
“I wonder if Owen would go?”
“Of course he would. I guess my mother would let me go with you.”
“Suppose we go on Wednesday. School begins next week.”