“Quit, boys!” Case broke in. “I know I’ve got a grouch a mile high to-night, but I’ll soon recover. Wait until I get busy with the supper we’re going to have, and you’ll see!”
Case seemed ashamed of his complaining, so the boys silently accepted his implied apology and busied themselves preparing the supper he had spoken of. In the eyes of the lads that was Case’s one fault. He was inclined to worry, and also to express his worries in the most depressing prophecies. But while they laughed at his premonition of trouble for the absent boy, they listened anxiously for the absent one’s return.
Directly Clay took a handful of silver from a pocket and laid it in a shining heap on the table.
“I guess we’d better cash up,” he said. “I got my last pay envelope from Slade & Co., to-day, and here’s the coin. We must have more than $200 by this time.”
The other boys drew banknotes and silver from their pockets, and heaped their contributions on the table.
“Now, we’ll put it with the other,” Clay said, after it had been counted over at least half a dozen times. “Just where is our bank to-night? I don’t seem to remember where we deposited last time.”
“It wasn’t in a bank,” Case broke in, forgetting his promise to get rid of his grouch, “though it should have been. The idea of leaving $200 lying loose in this old tub!”
“Now you’re losing our money—in your mind!” laughed Clay. “How many times before to-night have you lost it, Case?”
“Well, it isn’t safe, anyhow,” insisted Case, “even with Jule here to watch it; and he runs out and leaves the boat alone after dark!”
“When will this professional worrier begin work?” asked Alex with a sly grin at Clay. “He’s needed here right now. Case doesn’t seem to be able to acquire any peace of mind!”