“Go back if you want to, but I’m hollow to my boots—”
“Then hustle up and the trouble shall be immediately corrected.” That was Mrs. Seaman who had been listening for a sign that her guests might soon begin to feel as if they had caught up with the sandman.
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Both. Good morning. My husband looked in on you a couple of times before he went on duty, and said to let you have it out,” she smiled. “I’ll have the orderly run the water for your baths and you can take things easy today. Those are orders,” she told them.
“And we always obey orders,” Jim answered. Now that he knew it was late, he banished the idea of another doze, stretched, yawned, and would have thrown a pillow at Bob if they had been at home, but guests in a stranger’s house have to be more circumspect. Their toilet did not take very long, for in the warm climate few clothes are required, and presently the pair, feeling fit as a couple of fiddles, presented themselves to their hostess, who looked them over with frank approval.
“You appear to be top hole,” she said.
“And we are,” Jim assured her.
While they were at breakfast one of the men came in with word that the boat was leaving for the “bug settlement” to take Doctor Manwell on his weekly inspection of the workers. Donald was making the trip with his adopted father, and if the Flying Buddies cared to accompany the expedition, there was plenty of room and they were quite welcome.
“That’s the place Martin is managing, isn’t it?” Jim asked.
“Yes. They were having some difficulties yesterday, but I expect it is over by now. Those disagreements come up and pass quickly. I have also been invited, and I have been delighted to accept. Mrs. Manwell and a couple of other women are also going along. We’ll have rather a jolly time.”