"And pretty soon," declared Landy, "I'm going to use a black pocket in the woods close by as my dark room, so I can develop that roll of films. You see, I'm just wild to learn whether I really did push that trigger on the camera, and shoot it off, just as those two fellows were tumbling into the water. If I got that, it'll pay me for the whole job of hiking away up here and losing more'n a pound in weight."
"Wish you luck, then, Philander," said George, who usually made a mouthful of his cousin's name.
Some people said George was really envious of Landy's possessing such an uncommon name; others believed that he was proud of being connected with a family that could sport such a classical "cognomen," as he often termed it.
"When did you leave good old Hickory Ridge?" asked Ty; for, like most boys, no sooner was Ty away from home than everything about the place assumed an almost sacred aspect, and he could never even mention its name without an affectionate prefix of some sort.
"I reckon I've been three hours on the way," was George's reply.
"Three hours to get up here! Say, you didn't walk like that in the big hike, when you covered the name of Robbins with imperishable glory," Landy declared.
"Shucks, and me the lowest score in the whole bunch!" sneered George. "But I guess I lost the way, and covered a lot more territory than I ought to have done."
"Yes," said Landy, "I know what was the matter. You just made up your mind every signpost lied, and when it said go east, you tried the other road. That's what you get for doubting everything. It brings heaps of trouble, and if you're wise you'll shunt that on to the side track in a hurry."
"Oh, shucks! Attend to your own mutton, Landy," said George; but his face had reddened at the accusation of his cousin, and none of the others doubted but that Landy's random shot had hit pretty close to the truth.
"Anything new around Hickory Ridge since we left there?" asked Elmer.