“How did I ever manage it?” repeated Jack. “What’s the answer?”
Jimmie took his chum by the arm and headed for the cave.
“Bring your breakfast along with you,” he said, “and hold onto it tight. Clutch it with the grip of destiny! I’ll show you what I’m talking about, and then you can tell me who’s got the appetite.”
Directly the three boys stood before the roughly built cupboard and then Frank drew aside the canvas curtain. The shelves were entirely bare except for knives, forks, spoons, a sack of salt, and an empty plate.
“There!” Jimmie cried. “Did you go and eat all our perfectly good provender last night?”
“I wasn’t out of bed last night!” insisted Jack.
“Then it must have been Ned or Harry!” Frank declared.
Jack looked from one to the other with amazement showing in his face.
“Did some one clean out the refrigerator in the night?” he asked.
“You’re just right, some one cleaned out the refrigerator!” Jimmie answered, “and we’ve got to go and make baking powder biscuit, or corn pones, or something like that for breakfast, or go hungry!”