"I don't want to disturb her, Mac," he said in a low voice. "Let's keep up the bluff of being busy. We can put out the fire."
Ten minutes later, sweating and considerably smokegrimed, Aldous again looked toward the tent.
"We might cut down a few trees," suggested MacDonald.
"Or play leap-frog," added Aldous.
"The trees'd sound more natcherel," said MacDonald. "We could tell her——"
A stick snapped behind them. Both turned at the same instant. Joanne stood facing them not ten feet away.
"Great Scott!" gasped Aldous. "Joanne, I thought you were in the tent!"
The beautiful calmness in Joanne's face amazed him. He stared at her as he spoke, forgetting altogether the manner in which he had intended to greet her when she came from the tent.
"I went out the back way—lifted the canvas and crawled under just like a boy," she explained. "And I've walked until my feet are wet."
"And the fire is out!"