"Well, I should like to know if I haven't. I tell you, Dave, that's the Una," cried Joe in a triumphant whisper.
"The Una?" asked Dave, letting go his cheek, and looking up with increased interest.
"Yes, sir, the Una; and of course Ralph and Ben are there, too."
Dave gave a prolonged whistle below his breath, but Joe hushed him.
"I'll run to Mr. Bernard's tent and see if he knows. You'd better dress and come down if your tooth doesn't ache too hard."
"I don't care if it does; I'll go," said Dave, seizing his clothes and beginning to dress in haste.
"Well, tie up your head in something, and come on."
Joe darted out of the tent, and ran noiselessly to Mr. Bernard's.
In vain he rapped on the canvas, as little Max, the only occupant, was still soundly sleeping.
"Mr. Bernard knows it," thought Joe, as he ran like a greyhound down to the rocks, followed by Dave, who came only half dressed and wrapped in a blanket like a young savage.