“Well, we’re here, and we’ve got to make the best of it, Jeff,” answered Gif briefly. He was by no means pleased to think that the colored man had been “wished on them” by his father.
Gif returned to the living room, leaving Jeff to prepare the evening meal as best he could. He proceeded to take off more of his garments, hanging them where they might dry before the open fire. In the meanwhile all could hear the wind sighing mournfully through the trees that surrounded the big bungalow and hear the rain coming down on the roof as steadily as ever.
“Well, we’re much better off here than if we had stayed in the woods, that’s sure,” said Jack, as he stretched out on a bench in front of the fire. “This will be fine when once we get settled and have everything to work with.”
“I wonder if those other fellows got back to the Willoughby camp,” mused Fred.
“I don’t see why not. They started long before we did, and they don’t have any snags on that side of the lake,” answered Gif.
The boys could hear Jeff moving around the kitchen and they heard the clatter of kettles and pans as the colored man was preparing the evening meal. Then, of a sudden, they heard Jeff let out a wild yell.
“Hi! Hi! I’s killed! I’s killed!” roared the colored man. “Save me! Save me! I’s killed!”