Paul still slept soundly, and the boys decided to wait until he awoke before looking over the town for a surgeon.
The steak and potatoes being done to a turn, the boys fell to with appetites sharpened by the keen air.
“Pie,” declared Alex, “is Nature’s best gift to man! There is green apple pie, dried apple pie, red apple pie, and pie-pie. Pie has all other food on its back with its tongue out!”
“When you get to pie,” Jule cut in, “you’re always due for a eulogy. If I had the appetite for pie that you have, I’d feed it to the bears! By the way,” he exclaimed, bounding up from the table, “where is Teddy, Junior? Why isn’t he out here getting filled up?”
The boy shot away like he had only a second more to live, but soon returned with the announcement that the baby bear was lying on his belly snoring “to beat the band!”
“Who’s got the job of washing the supper dishes?” asked Alex, rolling back in his chair with the air of a millionaire. “Who talked the most slang to-day?”
“Jule did,” declared Case.
“I should say not!” denied that lad. “If I could talk slang equal to Alex, I’d give the slang dictionary cards and spades and then win out! He’s got a tongue that whirls round and round like a puppy after his tail. The idea of putting me in his class!”
“In order to settle this dispute amicably,” interrupted Clay, “I propose that the boys both tackle the job. They have both been talking slang all day.”
“All right!” consented Jule. “Only you don’t want to forget and leave any pie on the plates.”