“What the dickens is this?” said one. He was standing in front of a sign which read:
CAN’T GET AWAY TO DIG BAIT FOR
YOU TO-DAY, MY PATROL WON’T LET ME.
“And look at this one, will you?” said the amazed Atwell.
“Here’s another,” called Brownell.
They walked about reading the various signs which Frankie had lost a night’s sleep to manufacture.
“Well, what do you think of that?” said Brownell, as they stood surveying the “shoe tree.” “The little imps! I wonder how many pairs they’ve left?”
“Haven’t left any, of course; they’re all odd shoes.”
Meanwhile, Gordon and Harry had discovered the canoe and begun quietly to put on their clothes.
The others gathered about and looked on enviously. “You fellows must have a pull with Frankie,” said one. “Going to give us a ride home?”