“Oh, wow! but I’m stiff!” cried Jack, as he attempted to leave the boat.
“Wait, we’ll give you a hand up,” said Tom, and they had to assist him much more than they had previously, for a severe stiffness had set in. However, they got Jack to the tent, and on a cot. Then they proceeded to give him such rough and ready treatment as was possible under the circumstances.
“Well, it feels better, anyhow,” said Jack with a sigh of satisfaction as he stretched back. “Now let’s have that screed again, Tom, and I’ll have a go at translating it. I don’t believe it can be much worse than some of the Latin stuff old Skeel used to stick us with.”
“All right, try your hand at it,” agreed Tom. “The rest of us will get things in shape for the night, and see about supper. How about quail on toast for you, Jack?” he asked with a whimsical smile as he handed over the mysterious piece of paper.
“Nothing doing. I want roast turkey and cranberry sauce, with ice cream and apple pie on the side.”
“I think I see you getting it,” remarked Bert. “Corned beef and beans will be about the menu to-night.”
While Jack lay back on his cot, easing his injured leg, and studied the piece of paper Tom had picked up, the others proceeded to get the camp to rights for the night. Bert, whose turn it was to cook, started the oil stove, and began opening canned stuff. Tom looked to see if there was a good supply of wood for the campfire, for, though they did not really need it, they always lighted one for the sake of the cheerfulness.
“I say,” called Bert, as he went about collecting the various items he needed for the meal. “What did you do with that piece of bacon, Tom?”
“What piece?”