“Oh, I’ll do that!” cried the red-faced Sammy. “Let me!”
While the little girls were glad to sit before the fire on the blankets, he wished to make himself useful. Besides, to help skin a real rabbit was a height of delight to which Sammy Pinkney had never before risen.
“All right,” said Rowdy. “You get the potatoes and onions ready, Rafe. We have salt and pepper and we can have a nice rabbit stew.”
“Just fry it,” recommended the other cave dweller. “That’s less trouble.”
“You do as I say!” exclaimed Rowdy, sternly. “There are five of us instead of two to eat, and we’ve got to make this rabbit go a long way.”
“Well, who brought them in? I didn’t,” said Rafe, angrily. “You knew we didn’t have any too much to eat.”
“You are a nice one!” began Rowdy, when Tess broke in with:
“I’m awful sorry we came if we are going to make trouble. We can go back under that tree—can’t we, Sammy?”
“I’m not going back there,” Dot said stubbornly. “There’s no fire there. If this other boy doesn’t like us because we are girls, can’t he go out and live under the tree himself?”
This idea seemed to amuse Rowdy a good deal. He laughed aloud—and the laugh did not sound just like a boy’s laugh, either. Tess stared at him wonderingly.