“What a silly rule they have here, that a fellow can’t spend more than fifteen cents a day at the store!” Dirk was complaining, munching a chocolate bar. “Up at Wild Rose Camp last year we could spend as much as we wanted, and they had everything—ice-cream cones every day. Why, I could buy out this little store if I wanted to! Here, youngster, have a bag of almonds.”
“Thanks,” said Joey admiringly. “Say, what kind of a place was that Wild Rose Camp?”
“Very select. I believe it cost me five hundred dollars a season, not counting extras, such as piano lessons, archery, and so on.”
Brick Ryan said “Humph!” in a loud tone, but Joey was visibly impressed.
“Well, youngster,” Dirk went on, “shall we get busy unloading all these traps of mine?”
“Sure. Say, if you could go to such a swell place as that, how come you’re here at Lenape?”
“Oh, just a notion of Papa’s. You see, he used to go to college with the camp director here. I made Papa buy me a canoe all my own if I promised to come here, but I tell you, if I don’t like this place, I shan’t stay very long.” Dirk turned airily and stooped to open the large wardrobe trunk that stood amidst his heap of luggage. “Shall we get to work?”
Brick Ryan, whose sole possessions had come to Lenape with him in a canvas dunnage-bag, pretended to read, but he kept one eye on the proceedings. Languidly Dirk, aided by the awed Joey, began to unpack his multitude of belongings. First he unrolled a thick mattress—the only mattress in camp aside from those in the hospital tent—and spread it on the lower bunk nearest the lodge. Brick felt called upon to interfere.
“Say,” he began, “that bunk belongs to Sax McNulty, our leader. All the other lower bunks are already taken. You’ll have to take one of the uppers.”
“I beg your pardon?”