“Your a wonner,” he said.
“Bet your life,” replied Tom. “I wasn’t goin’ out in the bush without a tent. It’s one some coves that was down fishin’ last summer left with the old man to take care of. Don’t you split!”
“No blime fear,” said Dave. “We’re mates.”
“Let us put these things in the boat first,” said Tom, “an’ we’ll come back and get the tent.”
“Where is the boat, Tom?” asked Dave. “I ain’t seen her yet.”
“Foller me!” cried Tom. “We got to be quick. The tide’s on the turn, an’ we’ll go down with it. Did you pinch a pair of pants for me?”
“Yes; and I hooked one of the old man’s shirts, too.”
“Good egg!” exclaimed Tom, gleefully. “I couldn’t have gone another night without a shirt. The mosquitoes ’as nearly ’et me raw. Gimme the shirt now.”
“It’s in the bag.”
“Is it near the top? Give us it, anyhow. They’ve sucked all the blood out of me back an’ legs. I’d a lit a fire to keep ’em off only I was afraid of somebody seein’ it.”