“I said ‘luncheon’, didn’t I?” asked Alex.
“You certainly did,” was the reply.
“Well,” Alex said, “then we’re going to have pie.
“The only kind of pie we can have now,” Case objected, “is fish pie. I’ll go and catch a couple of river perch and you can make a fish pie.”
“Say, look here,” Alex said, shutting the cabin door in Case’s face and talking through the glass panel, “what do you know about pie? I suppose you’ll be wanting me to make a liver pie next.”
“That would be fine fodder!” laughed Case. “I guess you are joking!”
“You’ve forgotten about those canned apples,” Alex insisted. “I’m going to make hot apple pie for our midnight luncheon. And we’re going to have ham and eggs, and potatoes, and soda biscuit, and a whole lot of good things.”
“Go to it!” grinned Case, as he went back on the prow and sat down to watch the river.
The boat slipped steadily down with the current for about an hour before any lights were seen on the Kentucky side. Then Clay got out his map of the river and they all examined it intently.
“Here’s the big bend below Brandenburg,” Case said with his finger on the representation of the river. “Just now, we are free of the big bend, and so that light on the south bank must be at Wolf Creek.”