“We can try it over again to-morrow forenoon, if you say so.”
“Not much! Single paddles are trumps, to-morrow forenoon, and I’ll see if we Gold Hillers can’t have a little luck. Now let’s get back to camp.”
A return was quickly made to the other shore; and, while Merry and Clancy were in their tent, giving all the news to Ballard, and, at the same time, getting into their clothes, Barzy Blunt stuck his head in at the flap.
“Somebody beat me to it,” he remarked. “Call that a fair shake, Chip?”
There was a laugh in Blunt’s voice, so the lads knew his words were not to be taken seriously.
“Where were you while all the trouble was going on?” demanded Frank.
“I was a heap nearer the scene of trouble than you imagine. I’ve found out something, too, that will probably change your opinion of Jode Lenning.”
“Come in, then,” said Merry, “and bat it up to us. We’re getting sort of hardened to surprises, so I guess we can stand this one.”