"I intend to ask a ride back to Prouty from the first passerby, and I shall knock you and your ranch at every opportunity!"
She returned to her teepee to complete her toilette while Wallie took his boots from under his pillow and drew them on glumly, feeling that much of the joy had been taken from what promised to be a perfect morning.
Mr. Hicks, too, started breakfast in a mood that was clearly melancholy, for as he rattled the pots and pans Wallie heard him reciting:
"And when my time comes, let me go—not like the galley slave at night scourged to his dungeon—but like one sustained and soothed by an unfaltering trust——" He stopped suddenly, and then in a voice that chilled Wallie's blood he shouted:
"Jumping Je-hoshaphat! Git out o' that grub-box!"
He had caught Mrs. Budlong in the act of spreading jam on a cracker.
"How dare you speak so to me?" she demanded, indignantly.
For answer, Mr. Hicks replied autocratically:
"You ought to know by this time that I don't allow dudes snooping around when I'm cooking."
"You are insulting—I shall report you."