“And maybe you can find a can of paint or some other stuff at that shack so I can mark a warning on the boulder of rock alongside of the sand,” added Uncle Bill.
Paul and his rescuers reached Mose’s camp and were fortunate enough to find everybody gone on a flower quest. Mose alone kept solitary vigil of the clam-chowder cooking over a good camp-fire. In a moment, he was eager to help poor Paul in his “mire” need.
“Heah, Chile, tak’ dese two sweaters an’ use ’em fo’ a go’fing costume. Clim’ inta th’ sleeves ov one sweater wid yur feet an’ pull de’ odder down obber yo’ haid. Strap bof’ togedder about yo’ middle wid’da rope—lik’ dat, now!” And Mose assisted Paul in dressing as he advised.
When the boy emerged from back of the bushes where he and his valet had retired, the other boys laughed at the sight the sweaters made of Paul.
Mose gathered up the miry clothes and started in to scrape them as clean as possible before washing them.
“Say, Bo, yo’ don’ ever expec’ t’ wear deses again, do yo’?” questioned he.
“Can’t they be washed clean?” wondered Paul, anxiously.
“Ah kin wash ’em but dis clam-mud ain’t neber goin’ t’ let go fer good! One thing sure, dough, it’ll mek’ th’ coat thicker an’ warmer fo’ nex’ winter!” grinned Mose.
“Oh, go ’long, Mose, we all know you’re foolin’!” laughed Billy, leading Paul away from the teasing cook.