“Ben ought to have paid,” laughed Bob. “When a man buys food by the wholesale, he ought to pay duty, I’m sure.”
Ethan said no more, and as the boys were not disposed to dispute the strange ethics in which he evidently believed, the party once more became silent.
An hour later Ethan sighted a steam-yacht coming up the river, and in response to his hail it stopped and took the boat in tow. This made the returning voyage easy, and added to the novelty as well; and just before dusk the line was cast off, and the boat was headed for the camp, where soon after the boys arrived safely.
“I’ll get ye some supper now,” said Ethan, as he and Tom at once began their preparations for the evening meal.
“Good for you, Ethan!” said Ben. “All the ‘p’is’n things’ you had on board have been long since exhausted.”
“So I noticed. I wonder sometimes if there’s anything that will fill ye up.”
“Your supper will, I’m sure.”
“I’ll try it, though I’m doubtful,” replied the boatman, grimly.
A little later he left the tent and approached the boys, holding something in his hands. “Somebody’s been here while we’ve been gone,” he said. “They’ve left a letter and their tickets.”
Jock received the note and the “tickets,” as Ethan called the visiting cards, and tearing open the missive he read it and then said: “Mr. and Mrs. Clarke have been here, fellows. They have left an invitation for us. Keep still and I’ll read it.”