"Sure, I'll take ye, if ye'll hold ye'r tongue an' wait till we git this hay in. Ye'd better go over and set down under that big shady tree. A nap's good fer babies in the afternoon."
Lansing made no reply, but did as Abner had indicated. He sprawled out upon the ground, and spent his time smoking cigarettes.
"I wish Billy would go home," Royden remarked, as he tossed up a forkful of hay.
"H'm, that's not his way, seems to me," Abner replied. "He's lookin' fer the soft spots in life, like too many fellers. He feels more at home layin' there under that tree than standin' up. But he got a dose up in that mow, though."
When at last the hay was all in and Jerry stabled, Billy was on hand, ready to go to the island.
"Feel better now?" Abner asked as they walked to the shore. "Sickness all gone, eh?"
"Sure, I'm tip-top," was the reply.
"Subject to faintin' spells, are ye?"
"I've had them ever since I was a child."
"'Specially when there's work to be done. Ye'r not alone in that. Hop in now," he ordered, when the canoe had been launched.