Sax shook his head. “Can’t have that. Where is he, anyway? He’ll have to stow that stuff before Nig and Eddie and the rest get here.”
“Search me,” Brick shrugged. “Haven’t seen him since siesta. He’s probably off tellin’ the little kids what a rich guy his dad is, and how Wild Rose Camp is much sweller than this joint.”
The leader pulled on his swimming suit, and looked up thoughtfully. “Don’t tell me he’s the son of Van Horn, the bank president! Don’t tell me that!”
“I’m afraid so.”
“And he’s going to be here in Tent One this section. Well, well, and a couple more wells! You don’t seem to have taken to him very kindly, Brick.”
“He just sort of riled me from the start, I guess.”
“Well, he’ll be all right after a couple days here. No quarreling, now! We must all be like little birdies in the nest, Brick—— Hark!”
Brick Ryan had heard it too. From the mountainside had come a despairing cry.
“Help!”
He jumped to his feet, and the two, leader and boy, stared solemnly into each other’s faces. Then McNulty grabbed for a pair of rubber-soled tennis shoes, and began furiously lacing them on his bare feet.