“Possibilities!” Marjorie Eaton began laughing. “Oh, I think he’s just impossible.”
They were awful nice, those girls were. They said they thought it would be all right for us to go up to their camp and have dinner with them and then start for the outlet in the boat. They said they thought that would be turning to the left and that it was the only way for us to get out of our rut. They said our resolution was all right but that sometimes a rule has to be construed freely.
They reminded me of school when they talked. They said our only hope of escape was by the lake. Marjorie Eaton said that otherwise we would be the victims of an eternal circle. Gee whiz, they were smart.
“You mean an infernal circle,” I said.
Pee-wee said, “Don’t ever talk to me again about anything round; if it’s round I have no use for it.”
“Oh, we’re so sorry,” Stella Wingate said. “Then you won’t eat any fish-balls.”
“Eats don’t count,” the kid said.
“That’s the first time I ever heard you say that,” I told him.
So then we all went up to their camp which was about a couple of hundred feet from the shore.
And, oh, boy, those were some fish-balls. They counted with Pee-wee all right, but I lost count of them. Those girls said they had just decided to take a trip into the woods for a lark.