Tubby missed the canoes–by good luck–and rolled with a splash into a shallow pool at the river’s edge.
“You mean thing!” he yelled, getting up with some alacrity and shaking his fist at Ferd. “I–I’m all wet.”
“So are we, Tubby,” Dave said. “You belong to our lodge now. Come on up here with that knife of yours. Didn’t I tell you I wanted to use it?”
The other boys were scurrying after stakes and blankets, while the girls fed the fire till it roared high, and Bessie stood in the heat of the flames.
“What do you think of the boys now, Bess?” Frank Cameron whispered in the victim’s ear. “Some good–at times–eh?”
“Now, don’t worry her, Frank,” commanded Mina, the tender-hearted. “The poor, dear girl! See–she’s just as wet as she can possibly be.”
“Oh, and wasn’t I scared!” gasped Bess, honestly. “When that bank went down I thought I was right on my way through to China! I did, indeed.”
“I was so thankful Dave was there,” said Wyn Mallory, thoughtfully. “You see, Dave is one of those dependable boys.”
“I’ve got to admit it,” gasped Bess. “He’s some good. Why! he caught me just as I was slipping off that tree. I can’t thank him!”
“Never mind,” said Wyn, cheerfully. “It is decided, I guess, that the boys may be of some use to us this summer, after all.”