"That is bad news. Poor Mr. Carlisle! But is that all that you have to tell me, Ned?"
Burford jumped. He reddened a little.
"Y-yes, I reckon that's all. You girls will have to excuse us now. Hallowell and I are going back to our boat-house to fix up our March reports."
"Anything we two can help about?"
"You two have put in a mighty good day's work in securing that right of way. Though if you're hunting for a job you might verify the yardage report I left on your desk. Run along now, we're going to be busy."
"Such is gratitude," remarked Sally Lou, with ironic philosophy, as she drove away. "'Run along, we're busy.' Just like a boy!"
Roderick and Ned looked after the buckboard, a little shame-faced at Sally Lou's parting shot.
"Just the same, it does no good to tell them all our ill-luck," said Burford.
"And Marvin's threatening to quit is even worse luck than Carlisle's illness. For his quarrel with the foreman has started half a dozen quarrels among the workmen. Queer, isn't it? A grouch like that will spread like wild-fire through a whole camp."
"Marvin is waiting on the house-boat for us this minute." Ned peered through a telescope of his hands. "Now we'll listen to a tale of woe!"