"I don't want anything to do with them or their canoes," Midkiff announced. "I've a mighty poor opinion of that gang."
"Here, too," said Red. "I've a notion they're not going to be good neighbors."
"They promised," Hicks observed seriously.
"What's a promise to fellows like them?" growled he of the auburn hair.
"What do you know about them, Reddy?" Kingdon asked. "Jumping at conclusions, aren't you?"
"If a dog shows his teeth I take it for granted he can bite," was the prompt reply. "I don't have to go up to him and put my hand in his mouth to make sure."
"True, true, Carrots. And quite philosophical. You are improving."
Suddenly, Cloudman appeared from the wood that covered the heights of the island behind the camping place. He came scrambling down toward the tent that had already been set up and secured.
"Here comes the P.L.," said Phillips, squinting up at the lank Western youth.
"What's that?" asked Midkiff. "'P.L.'—pretty lucky? He's missed most of the work."