"I should imagine it would shake one down a bit," agreed Tad. "What do you think about it, Chunky?"
But Chunky's reply was not clear to them, for the greater part of his face was buried in a flank of jack-rabbit, and he was able to talk with his eyes alone, which at that moment were large and expressive.
Never had a meal seemed to taste so good to these boys as did this crude repast, served on a rock several thousand feet in the air and with only such conveniences for eating it as nature had provided. But good humor prevailed and everybody was happy.
Chunky at last paused from his labor long enough to go to the spring for a cup of water.
"While you are up you might fetch some for the rest of us," suggested
Ned.
So Chunky gathered up the cups and plodded to the spring, chewing vigorously as he went. However, finding it inconvenient to carry all the cups at one time, he left his own at the spring, returning with those of the others, filled with cool, sparkling water.
The boys were profuse in their thanks, to which Stacy bowed with great ceremony and returned to the spring for more water.
For the moment, in the conversation that followed, they forgot Clunky entirely. But he was recalled sharply to their minds a few minutes later.
"Pussy, pussy, pussy!"
Ned and Tad turned inquiringly at the sound. Lige and the Professor, being engaged in earnest conversation at the time, had not heard Stacy Brown's plaintive call off behind the rocks yonder.