After the merits of the various theories had been well argued, it was generally accepted that Tom had received his cut by striking a sunken pile. However, no one went down into the water to see. The accident put an end to diving off the breakwater.
[ CHAPTER IV]
THE CAMP AT DEEP CREEK
When, of the eleven loads of wood, about three were still unpiled, Ned began to feel need of a change of air. It seemed to him that the climate of Deep Creek, sixteen miles down the river, would be just the thing for him.
In short, he was stricken by his annual violent attack of the camping-out-fever—a malady very popular during the summer, in Beaufort.
Hal, too, was taken at the same time. The symptoms were a burning desire to get away from town, and into the woods; to lie around in old clothes, regardless of time, and free from all fuss; to amuse oneself as one pleased; to be lazy; to be uncivilized and unwashed; to row a boat, which is fun, instead of to pile wood, which is work.
The two boys compared notes, and agreed, Bob voting “yea,” that the sooner they left, the better. Deep Creek appealed to both as the proper locality; and Bob, it goes without comment, stood ready to follow them any place.
Hal, whose father was less strict as to chores than was Ned’s, was used to dropping into the Miller back yard, once in a while, mornings, and giving Ned the comfort of company at the wood-pile. This lightened Ned’s labors, but it did not hasten them, for there were moments when the talk grew so interesting that he forgot to keep the slabs moving.