“Right again.”
“What good turn have you done anybody to-day?”
“Modesty kaaps our lips mute,” replied Mike, who for the life of him could not recall a single incident of the nature named.
“Wal, would you like to do me a good turn?”
“We certainly shall be glad,” Alvin took upon himself to reply.
“Help me unload this wagon; the stuff is for the Boy Scouts, so you’ll be helping yourselves.”
CHAPTER XIV — The Men Who Laughed
Before the party fell to work, the driver walked to the edge of the lake and tied his white handkerchief to the limb of a tree, which projected over the water. There was enough breeze to make it flutter, and the background of emerald brought it out with vivid distinctness. It was the signal to the bungalow that the chuck wagon, as they called it, had arrived, and the two canoes were to be sent across the lake for the supplies. Since it was expected at a certain time, our friends were on the watch for it. Within ten minutes after the piece of linen was fastened in place, the large canoes, each containing two persons, one of whom was Scout Master Hall, were seen heading for the spot where the provisions were awaiting them. It does not take a man and four lusty boys long to prepare a wagon load of such freight for shipment by water, and the cargo was ready a good while before the arrival of the craft.
The driver, who announced that he was “Jake,” sat on one of the boxes, lighted a corncob pipe and talked with the lads. Although he was rough of speech and at times inclined to profanity, the young men treated him with respect, and by their unvarying courtesy won his good will. He asked many questions and told them a good deal about himself; in short, they became quite chummy.
The two canoes had passed most of the distance when Jake abruptly asked: