Harold Lounsbury found to his surprise that they were not to start at once. It soon became evident that Bill had certain other matters on his mind.
"Build a fire and put on some water to heat—fill up every pan you have," he instructed Sindy. He himself began to cram their little stove with wood. Harold watched with ill-concealed anxiety.
"What's that for?" he asked at last.
Bill straightened up and faced him. "You didn't think I was going to take you looking like you do, do you—into Virginia's presence? The first thing on the program is—a bath."
Harold flushed: the red glow was evident even through the sooty accumulation on his face. "It seems to me you're going a little outside your authority as Miss Tremont's representative. I don't know that I need to have any hillbilly tell me when I need a bath."
"Yes?" Bill's eyes twinkled—for the first time during their talk. "Hillbilly is right—in contrast to a cultured gentleman of cities. But let me correct you. You may not know it, but I do. And you need one now." He turned once more to Sindy. "And see what you can do about this gentleman's clothes, too; if he's got any clean underwear or any other togs, load 'em out."
"Anything else?" Harold asked sarcastically.
"Several things. Have you got any kind of a razor?"
"No. I don't want one either."
"Better look around and find one. If you don't, I'll be obliged to shave you with my jackknife—and it will be inclined to pull. It's sharp enough for skinning grizzlies but not for that growth of yours. And I'll try to trim your hair up for you a little, too. When you bathe, bathe all over—don't spare your face or your hair. Water may seem strange at first, but you'll get used to it. And I'll go over and sit with Joe Robinson and his friend until you are ready. The surroundings are more appetizing. If you can polish yourself well in an hour, we'll make it through to-night."