“Me, I’d shore hate to be in his shoes, if that big hulk broke loose an’ made things fly,” was the way he wound up his soliloquy; when other more vital matters began to engage his attention.
It was by now long after noon, and as usual Perk had begun to feel a bit “queer” down in the pit of his stomach. For this feeling there was, as he very well understood, but one sovereign remedy. Accordingly he gave a little tug at his companion’s arm, and hastened to suggest:
“Jack, haow ’bout holdin’ up, an’ having aour lit snack—aint no tellin’ when a better chanct’ll come aour way, I kinder guess?”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea, Perk; and to tell the truth I’m feeling as if I needed a bite or two so’s to keep up this climbing. Hold on, here’s as good a spot as any—let’s go!”
Two minutes afterwards and they were seated crosslegged on the ground, amidst a generous growth of covert, which would likely screen them effectually from any prying eyes.
Jack realized that by this time they must have climbed far enough up the mountainside to bring them fairly close to the opening of the pass that led into the valley of the giants.
If this were true then it behooved them to exercise a greater amount of caution than ever, lest they betray themselves to some vidette who might be posted near by.
With this idea in view he considered it the part of wisdom to take Perk into his confidence, so that as they exchanged views they could tone down their voices to the whispering stage.
Meanwhile Perk had produced the aforesaid “snack” in the shape of a small package, neatly done up by that efficient waiter friend, and containing, it turned out, another kind of sandwich, with a tasty brand of cheese as the “filler.”
“Jest didn’t dare try to hitch that ere tank o’ hot coffee along on this tough hike, partner,” explained Perk apologetically, after listening to the need of caution mentioned by Jack. “So we’ll have to munch this spread dry; or else locate a spring so’s to wet aour whistles.”