“We’ve got to hustle to get things in shape,” said Bob, when the date of departure had been settled. “The first thing is to arrange to have the boat shipped. Let’s go over to the freight office and see the agent. I—”
Bob was interrupted at that instant by the entrance of the cook, with a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of milk.
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know there were three of you here,” and she looked at Bob, who grinned sheepishly.
“Chunky!” exclaimed Ned. “Did you order all this for yourself,” and he gazed reproachfully at his chum.
“Well you see I told her to get it ready a while ago,” explained Bob. “I didn’t know then you two were coming over. I went out to post a letter and I met Jerry and we saw you. Then I forgot all about this until—but she’ll get some more, won’t you Mary?”
“Sure, Master Bob, if you want it.”
“I move that Bob be compelled to sit there and see Jerry and I eat all this up,” spoke Ned, beginning with a sandwich in each hand.
Poor Chunky looked so woe-begone at this inroad on his rations that his two chums laughed.
“Oh, pitch in!” said Jerry. “I know how you feel, Bob. It must be all of two hours since you had anything to eat.”