“Oh, all right. I have had more than enough.” Jack waved a disdainful hand loftily. “I believe, as it is, I should be more careful what I eat.”
A huge, very hard bun, the sort found only in bakeries near Summer resorts, hit Jack squarely in the face. Without any comment he caught it, cut it in half, and with a tin spoon plastered it with butter. Then he put “the lid on it,” and tried to get it between his teeth. It was heroic exercise, but Jack had been trained at a reputable college, and had learned to eat what he wanted.
“But those duffers, the land men,” continued Dray, “what are they after the girls for? I had an idea one of them must be trying to claim relationship with the fair Freda. He kept so close to her when she was out after Denny.”
“Relationship!” Jack repeated, with a laugh. “You almost hit it, Dray. I guess the bear would like to be her first cousin, for he is trying to get her goods and chattels from her.”
“How?”
“Oh, we must not go into that; at least not just yet. I promised Cora not to be hasty with Moran. He’s the ‘gent’ who is supposed to be president of the company.”
“The one who wears the Panama? I wonder if anyone would think of haste in connection with that duffer. It took him just one hour to buy three soft crabs from some kids at the dock yesterday,” said Walter. “I wouldn’t like to be his messmate. But I don’t like his eye; it’s made on the bias.”
“Yes, always looks as if it were going to slip out of the socket,” confirmed Jack. “Well, I hope the girls won’t go in too deep with their schemes. Those fellows are from little old N’Yawk.”
“Quick!” whispered Walter. “There’s that Black. If he lays eyes on your plates he’ll lick them.”
The last morsels of food were crammed into mouths before the call from the neighboring camper was answered.