“I don’t believe she’d consent to that. I know I wouldn’t,” he waggled, “if I had been sent here on an errand such as hers. I’d feel that it was my duty, sort of, to stay close to the buried bonds.”
In our further talk it was made plain to us that we could do one of three things: Stay on the island with the girl until the grandfather came; proceed to Steam Corners at the time appointed, leaving her unattended on the island; or take her with us. [[129]]
When we put the matter up to her she laughingly told us that we were making a mountain out of a molehill. Her grandfather, she declared, would soon put in an appearance. And until he came she was perfectly safe on the island. With a slightly clouded forehead and a determined set of her mouth she told us, in conclusion, that she would be both annoyed and provoked if we changed our plans on her account. It wasn’t to be thought of.
“And you’re dead sure,” Scoop hung on, wanting to do the right thing, “that you won’t be scared to stay here alone until your grandfather appears?”
“Scared?” She gave a scornful laugh and sort of boastingly squared her shoulders. “I should say not. What is there to be scared of? As I told you last night, I’ve been here dozens of times. I know where the spring is, so I won’t have to go thirsty. And if a shower comes up, I’ll run for the cave.”
“You haven’t anything to eat,” our leader reminded.
“Grandfather will bring something.”
“He might not get here for several hours.”
“Well,” the girl laughed, giving her curls a [[130]]saucy toss in the persistent one’s face, “if you’re really afraid that I’ll starve, you can leave me a dill pickle and a toothpick.”
“There’s a chunk of boiled ham on the scow,” Scoop told her. “We’ll get it and you can make yourself some sandwiches.”