“WHO wants to sail over to Rosemary and bring back some burlap bags of hay?” called Fred, one rather cloudy morning when every one felt undecided about doing anything on account of the weather.
The three younger boys hastily volunteered and were told to get ready.
“Say, this is a case of sou’westers and oilskins, boys,” called Fred, when he saw them coming from the bungalow with caps and sweaters.
“Why do you need hay—we haven’t a horse or cow to feed?” questioned Dudley.
“Never mind,” replied Billy; “who knows what sort of a wild animal may be prowling around the island pretty soon.” As he spoke with a certain air of knowledge he buttoned a sou’wester strap high under his chin.
“Say—I bet I know!” laughed Paul, eyeing Billy, then Fred carefully.
“What?” demanded Dudley.
“We’re going to stuff a bear for the Mishi-mokwa game, aren’t we, Fred?”
“Right you are! We will, if Elizabeth will help us with the sewing of the burlap,” replied Fred.
“Oh, is that why you picked over that iron junk in Belfast and bought all those sharp-ended rods for spear points?” added Paul.