“Change to what?”
“That’s so. It might be imprudent for any of us to go to camp for fresh clothing.”
“Come, girls, let’s gather wood and build a fire,” urged Miss Briggs. “We can build a small fire in the cave and let our men dry out in there and we will stand guard on the outside.”
“Good! That is real headwork,” agreed Tom. “Give me a handful of sticks and I’ll start a fire if you will provide the matches. Mine are soaked.”
Hippy had already started in search of Stacy Brown, but Stacy was not in sight. He had fled to the farther end of the cave, whence he was gazing apprehensively towards the opening.
“You may come out,” offered Hippy. “I’m too wet to have my interview with you now. When I get dried out I’ll have a friendly conversation with you. Come out!”
Stacy sidled out, watching Uncle Hip narrowly. Tom came in at this juncture, with an armful of twigs that the girls had gathered, and started a small fire.
“I don’t want to be smoked out,” complained Stacy.
“There is worse than that coming to you, young man,” reminded Tom. “At present, however, we have other things to attend to. Strip and dry out.”
“I don’t want to dry out. I want to be soaked,” retorted Stacy.