Jimmie and Carl hastened to make themselves acquainted with the situation in the canyon by means of their electric searchlights. They ran here and there glancing up at the almost vertical walls to the north and south and throwing long fingers of light into the depressions in the crag. By this time Kit was asleep on the sand!
“Looks like one of the East-Side apartment houses,” grinned Jimmie, flashing his light upward. “See, there’s a row of windows, and there’s something that looks like a fire-escape!”
“Your row of windows,” laughed Ben, “consists of holes where lime-rocks have been worn away by the action of the water, and your fire-escape is only a long seam in the granite, with frequent cross sections.”
“Aw, what’s the use of busting up illusions,” asked Jimmie. “I was having a pleasant dream of the East Side. And the East Side made me think of the little old restaurant on Fourteenth street, near Tammany Hall. And the thought of the restaurant reminded me that I hadn’t had anything to eat since noon. Why didn’t you let me dream?”
“Any old time, it takes Tammany Hall, and Fourteenth street, and a fire-escape on a rock, to make Jimmie remember that he’s hungry!” laughed Carl.
“Well, if you’re hungry,” Ben suggested, “why don’t you go on and get supper? You’re the cook to-day, anyway.”
“Is it safe to build a fire?” asked Carl.
Ben shook his head and pointed to the walls on either side.
“The flame might not be seen,” he said, “but the reflection might, so I presume we’d better do our cooking on the alcohol stove.”
“Jerusalem!” exclaimed Jimmie. “I don’t want any cafeteria, Y. M. C. A., luncheon to-night. I want to get out about a dozen cans of beans, and tinned roast beef, and four or five pounds of ham, and a couple dozen eggs, and have a square meal. We’ve been sailing over the country for five or six days now eating wind sandwiches and drinking brook water.”