Near him flames were leaping above a fallen top and running in tiny jets over dry duff like the waste of a fountain. Swiftly Strong cut branches of green birch and began to lay about him. He stopped the flames and then dug with his hatchet until he struck sand. He scooped it into his hat and soon smothered the cinders.
His face had a troubled expression as he returned to the boat-jumper.
"Who you been yellin' at?" Sinth asked.
"C-careless cuss," he answered, evasively.
Socky wore a look of indignation. He glibly repeated the oath which he had heard his uncle use.
"Hush! The Sundayman'll ketch you," Sinth answered, severely.
Strong gave a whistle of surprise.
"Uncle Silas ain't 'fraid o' no Sundayman," Socky guessed.
"Y-yes I be—could kill me with a s-snap of his finger," Strong declared.
Socky trembled as he thought of that one inhabitant of the earth who was greater than his Uncle Silas and said no more.