They started off again, but not before Jack carefully concealed the tracks they had made. This he did to prevent the man from making a discovery should he again visit the spot, which he was very likely to do, since it would naturally have a species of fascination for him henceforth.
It was difficult for Toby to talk on any other subject while his mind was filled with the strange actions of the man who seemed to resent their presence in the neighborhood. Therefore he had little to say on the balance of the way back to camp, though Jack knew he must be doing considerable thinking, that would cover every angle of the case.
Of course Steve was delighted when he saw the 117 monster bass. He admired it from every angle; though Toby took particular notice that Steve seemed more interested in the glorious dish it would make when cooked than in the great fight it had put up when at the end of Jack’s line.
“Do you know I was just hoping you’d fetch such a dandy fish home with you,” he went on to say, delightedly; “because I’ve made all arrangements to bake it in an oven of my own manufacture. I’ve dug a hole in the hard clay here, and when we’ve had lunch I mean to heat it furiously with red embers. Then I’ll wrap that fish in a wet cloth and lay it inside, after which my oven will be sealed over to keep the heat in for hours. That’s the old hunter’s oven, and they do say it is the originator of all these new-fangled fireless cookers, as well as the Thermos bottles that keep things hot or cold for a whole day.”
“Good boy, Steve!” cried Toby, slapping the big chum on the back affectionately. “You’ve got a head on you after all, sure you have.”
Steve looked as though he considered this a dubious compliment, since it seemed to imply that Toby must have at times doubted the truth of his assertion. But Jack, after examining the earth oven, declared that it was sure to work splendidly.
“And six hours or so ought to be really enough to cook a fish, especially if we get it as hot as we can,” he assured the architect.
In due time this was carried out. Plenty of 118 red embers were placed in the hole in the hard clay, and covered over; still more being added until the place was furiously hot. Then the ashes being taken out the cleaned fish was placed carefully within, after which the top was sealed over with wet clay, making the oven a “hermetically sealed one,” as Steve proudly proclaimed.
That was the longest afternoon Toby Hopkins ever knew during the entire course of his young life. He seemed to look up at the sun forty times, as though resting under a grave suspicion that some modern Joshua might have commanded it to “stand still.” Steve began to notice his actions, and seemed puzzled to account for them, being wholly unsuspicious of the real cause.
He even at one time about the middle of the afternoon sought Jack out, finding him working at his negatives; for he had fetched along a little daylight developing tank, and had already announced himself as well pleased with what the results seemed to promise.