If the Laughing Hyenas had been cast to sleep with the Elephants, there is no telling what might have happened. But the Elephants and the Ravens got along very well considering, and it was as good as a circus to see the older boys coming in, one by one, and making the full salute to Frankie.
The Elephants had looked upon Gordon as in some measure their especial property, and felt that his glory was their glory, for he was younger than any of the camp boys save themselves, and small for his age. It would have pleased them to extend the hospitality of their tent to the honored guest and strut a little in consequence, but Mr. Wade’s order was not to be questioned.
Gordon lay among the Hyenas, who had given him a rousing welcome to their tent, and listened to their talk about the accident at the chasm and the sending of the Morse message. One by one, voices dropped out of the discussion as their owners fell asleep, until only three talked on in the darkness.
“He’s all right,” said one, “and a mighty clever little fellow. He seems to have an idea that his chum is just as smart as he is himself.”
“He thinks the world of his patrol leader, all right,” said another. “I don’t suppose there’s one chance in a thousand of that fellow’s catching the message.”
“Oh, he might have seen the fire,” put in another, “but whether he could follow it is another question. It was pretty long for a fire message.”
“Yes, and even if he got the sense of it, he’d be a wonder if he did anything.”
“What could he do, anyway?”
“He can make a rice pudding.”
“Sure he can!”