“Well,” flashed Della, “Bob’s my brother, and that’s all right. But if they ever got in a tight pinch, I’m sure it was Frank that got them out. He’s got more brains than all the rest put together.”
“Oh, Della, how can you say that?” cried Marjorie.
“Well, just because Bob is my brother must I be always praising him?” demanded Della.
For a moment the two girls positively glared at each other.
Then the twinkle began to come, and they laughed.
Then they were hugging each other.
And then they were at it again.
CHAPTER XXVI.—TREED BY WOLVES.
One more adventure, and that a serious one, was to befall the boys as a final taste of life in the wilderness. One day towards the end of Winter, when the sky cleared after several days of tremendous rain, the three boys who had been cooped up in their quarters and had worn out even the amusement of listening to the Edmonton radio concerts or communicating with the Post of the Mounted, announced they were going hunting.
The supply of fresh meat had fallen pretty low, and additions to their larder would not be unwelcome. Accordingly, Mr. Hampton made no objection to their departure, but insisted that Art or Long Jim accompany them.