“That’s it,” chuckled Dave. “Tubby got up all right, and he got the plank up all right. But just as he tried to lift the plank to the top of the chimney his foot slipped, the board dropped, he fell on it as if he was coasting down hill, and–you saw the rest!”
“Oh–oh!” chattered Tubby. “Come on in and let me get–get to–to th-that f-f-fire. I’m frozen!”
“Here’s the key, Dave,” said Wyn, laughing (for the fat youth did look so funny), “and you can lock up when you go home and bring the key to my house. Don’t you boys make a mess in here for us to clean up,” she added.
“But they will. Boys always do,” declared Bessie Lavine.
“Well, thank goodness, it won’t be my turn to clean up after them, or make another fire,” declared Grace.
“They will do no damage,” returned Wyn, with assurance, as the girls trooped away from the boathouse toward the town.
“They have to keep their camp clean,” declared Frank. “I know that. Professor Skillings may be forgetful; but he is very particular about that. Ferdinand Roberts told me so.”
“I expect those horrid Busters do know a lot more than we do about camping.”
“Indeed they do,” sighed Grace. “How’ll we ever put up a tent big enough to house seven?”
“The boys will help us,” declared Wyn.