“Come on. Lead the way. Tell you all about it later. Got to beat it now. I put a bump on Garvin’s bean to get away and they may be after me any minute. Go ahead, fast’s you can; I’ll keep up.”
I waited to ask no more questions but plunged into the forest at a run with Pierce following at my heels. There was no need for caution now and we went straight to the cave, to find Betty ruefully picking the bird I had shot. At the sight of Pierce she stopped and stared, while I took the bird from her hand.
“No need for this now,” I laughed. “Here’s Freddy, and he’s brought us some real civilized food.”
“Best I could do,” said Pierce, and opening his belt there clattered to the floor of the cave a quantity of the Wanderer’s choicest viands that made me gasp. “Wilson’s sweater,” explained Pierce, looking at the pile. “Big enough for two of me. Held quite a lot, didn’t it?”
“Food!” Betty clasped her hands and gazed in amazement at the collection.
There was potted turkey, paté-de-foie-gras, asparagus tips, veal-loaf, all in glass. There were packages of tea biscuit. There was a bundle which contained sandwiches.
“Food! Oh, you blessed, perambulating pantry! You—you angel!” she cried, and hugged Pierce in a way that left him red and stammering.
“Gee! Beg pardon—I mean, you’re all right, ain’t you, Miss Baldwin? Gee—I mean, that’s fine!”
“Freddy,” said I with genuine feeling, “as you say, ‘mitt me,’ once more. ‘Put ’er there.’ You’re a prince. You’re more than a prince; you’re a clever man.”
“Aw, c’m on now, Brains; don’t go kidding me,” he protested.