“Perhaps that’s so,” admitted Sile, with a touch of resentment; “but I’d certainly like to know what it was we heard and saw.”
“Think we’d better say anything about it?”
“If yeou’ve got the idee that I ain’t goin’ to tell the other fellers, there’s another guess comin’ to yeou.”
“They’ll chaff us.”
“I don’t give a hoot for that. I’m goin’ to tell ’em the plain, straight truth, and they can chaff as much as they please.”
One of the boys came out to the extremity of the point, cupped his hands to his mouth and sent a halloo across the water. His figure made a black silhouette against the firelight.
“That’s Grant,” said Crane. “They’re gettin’ nervous abaout us. Oh! ho! Here we are! We’re comin’!”
“Well, it’s time you were,” flung back the Texan. “Hike along some.”
Grant and Springer met them as the prow of the canoe grounded on the sandy beach.
“Wha-what luck?” asked Phil.