Jimmy took Alf to his room and Marjorie took Judy to hers. Philip and Penny escorted Mr. and Mrs. Powell to the big airy room which had been reserved for them.
“Oh, Judy, isn’t it wo-o-o-onderful that you are here,” Marjorie said with a sigh of happiness. “We haven’t got everything quite arranged yet, so maybe, just for tonight, you and I can share a room. We’ll stay up late and talk, and raid the icebox. We have the most wonderful things to eat in it.”
At this point they had to hug each other and dance a little jig in the ecstatic joy of the occasion. Then their tongues began to catch up with all there was to tell each other.
As soon as Mal had brought the Powell’s luggage in from town and Judy had changed into her blue jeans, she and Marjorie were all over the place. They were like a couple of hummingbirds, here, there and everywhere. They took a dip in the lake, a shower in the boathouse, and afterwards, thoroughly content and full of excess spirits, they dressed for the best dinner that Judy had ever tasted. Marjorie’s eyes snapped and her round face was all smiles as she animatedly told the Powells and Alf what she and Judy had seen and done.
Then Alf and Jimmy related how they had spent the day first exploring a little in the woods, then making plans for a camping trip that they were to make later in the summer, and finally adding a little to the construction of the shack. They were mighty anxious to complete the bachelors’ retreat as fast as they could, and this was the only reason why they accepted an offer of help from Marjorie and Judy.
“I don’t suppose,” Alf said, giving Jimmy a nudge, “that they’ll really be any help. But we’ll let them sweep up wood shavings and sort nails.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” Judy said briskly. “I’m going to put up a wall all by myself or I won’t go near your silly old place.”
The boys hooted and ran off to their headquarters.
But not much work was accomplished the next day as more guests arrived. Brook Sanders was greeted with hilarious shouts of joy by Jimmy and Alf when Phil brought him in from the village in the station wagon. Poor Brook was not even given a chance to go to his room. But his parents were sure he preferred going down to see the shack with the boys. He came back with a glowing description of the woods, the lake, the picnic grounds, the shack and everything else he had seen.
“Gee, Dad,” he said excitedly, “I wish you’d buy the place next door. Jimmy says it’s for sale.”