"So say I," said Donald Parker. "There's plenty of drift-wood close at hand."
The fires were soon built, the potatoes were put to roast, and the fish were hung by the gills on sticks over the coals.
There was a great deal of laughing and shouting over the preparation for "Lunch No. 1," as they called this, intending to save enough food to have several more during the day.
Some began to eat their fish before they were half cooked, and others found theirs burned or smoked; but all were merry over the gipsy meal, when Joe, standing up and looking around, said, "Where are Walt and Ned?"
"Sure enough, where are they?" asked Dave, dropping his fish into the fire. "I haven't heard their voices for ever so long."
"Nor I," said several boys.
"Not since we first got here."
"Walt Martin! Ned Gould!"
"Ned! Walt!" shouted the crowd, making war-whoops with their hands over their mouths.
"Shout again, all together!"