“So am I,” Skinny shouted.
“If it rained this tree would keep us dry,” one of Brent’s patrol spoke up.
“I like trees best,” little Willie Wide-Awake piped up.
“It seems there’s a mutiny,” Harry said.
Brent said, “That was more than I dared to hope for. I’ve always longed to be mixed up in a mutiny. I’ll be the leader of this one.”
“Well,” Harry said, “all I know is, that we formed this party to come up here after buried treasure, and that we came equipped with rolling-pins and saucepans and pickaxes, and now it seems we’re talking about trees. You’re a queer lot, you scouts.”
I said, “Yes, and you feel just the same as we do, too. You try to make me think you don’t agree with Grace Bronson.”
Harry and Brent just looked at each other and laughed.
Then Harry said, “Well, girls and scouts, they’re a mystery to me. I’m here for business, but, of course, if there’s a mutiny——”
“Let’s take a vote,” Grove said.