“Sure,” said Hervey; “whatever it is, let’s do it. If we’re going to starve let’s get some fun out of it. I bet I can beat anybody starving.”
I said, “Pee-wee can beat you at that with both hands tied behind him, can’t you, Kid? Once I read about some men who were going to freeze to death in an ice cream freezer or somewhere; maybe it was up at the North Pole. So they wrote a note and stuck it up on a pole, maybe they stuck it on the North Pole, and they told what had become of them and how they had died a terrible death so that the world may be able to know about it. So let’s write a note and say that we starved here because we couldn’t cook a fish and that we hope our parents will take a lesson from us and not go round so much when they grow up. I was always wild, I used to ride on a runaway clotheshorse when I was a kid.”
“You’re a kid now,” our young hero shouted. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?”
“I know which is north and which is south,” I said, very sarcastic, “and anyway, I stay awake while I’m turning around. Do you think Cruson Robsoe got mad just because he was on a desert island? All he had was a footprint in the sand and we’ve got a fish—to look at. Isn’t he pretty? I bet there’s nice white meat inside of him, and a lot of bones. I wonder if he has a funny-bone? As long as we can’t get away from here let’s each tell our favorite dessert. I say let’s die bravely, like boy scouts, hungry to the end.”
All of a sudden, good night, Garry nearly fell off the railing; he was waving his hands and shouting, “A sail! A sail!”
“What kind of a sale?” Bert asked him. “A special sale or a cake sale or what? If it’s a cake sale lead me to it.”
Garry just kept shouting, “A sail! A sail! A sail on the horizon!”
“I don’t see any horizon,” I said. “Where is it?”
“Along there through the woods,” he said. “A sail! A sail! We are shaved!”
“What are you shouting about?” I said. “That isn’t a sail, it’s a Ford car! Hurrah! Hurrah! And a couple of hips!”