“I got a message for the chef—very important. Let me in!”
“Hol’ on dere!” came Ellick’s voice from the far corner of the room. “You ain’t de boy what is lookin’ for de striped paint, is you?”
“Yes, I am, chef.”
“Well, if dat don’t beat all!” exclaimed the surprised cook. “We is just out of striped paint. If I wasn’t busily pre-incapacitated by carving dis yere ham for dinner, now, I would shorely help you-all out. A left-handed bunk-stretcher wouldn’t do as well, would it, now?”
“Say, that was the other thing I was sent for!”
“Who-all sent you?”
“Wally Rawn—he’s my leader.”
“Oh, that Wally boy! It must shore be important then. If I could only dis-extricate myself from carvin’ dis yere ham, now——Let me see. De bestest thing to do under de concircumstances is for you-all to go down to de boat dock and petitionate de person in charge to give you de keys to de campus. And, whiles you’m down there, you-all might bring up a cargo what’s waitin’ for some smart young boy to fetch me. Ask him pussonally from me to deliver unto you-all de shipment of fence-post holes and de Royal Official Back-Scratcher.”
“You bet, chef—keys to the campus, fencepost holes and the Royal Official Back-Scratcher.”
“I thanks you. What might be you-all name?”