“The pleasure is mine,” I told him. “I suppose you think you’re going to get a swim after hours without getting called for it.”
“That shows your evil mind,” he said. “I was watching the sun go down.”
“Yes, and waiting to go down yourself,” I told him. “I’m waiting to see the scout go down. I always hated geography but there’s one thing I like about Massachusetts and that is that you’re away from there. I suppose you’ve got some new stunts this summer.”
“Hurry up and land,” he said, “and get through with your suppers. Supper was over an hour ago.”
He said that because he knew that Chocolate Drop wouldn’t let down that shutter till the last supper was over and everything was cleared up in Cooking Shack. Then he would be dumped into the lake accidentally. Christopher, but the trustees never seemed to get wise to Hervey Willetts. He looked awful funny sitting up there on that kind of a shelf all ready to be, you know, preciprocated or precipitated or whatever you call it, I should worry.
All of a sudden there was a voice from the Mammoth Cave in the other rowboat. “Let’s foil him,” said Pee-wee. “Just for fun let’s keep on eating for a couple of hours till he’s called to camp-fire. That’ll keep Chocolate Drop in the shack.”
“Listen to the famine talking,” I said.
“He can even hold a heavy shutter up an hour or so with a half a dozen pieces of pie,” said Warde Hollister.
“You should worry about our suppers,” I told him. “We always take our time eating. We expect to spend a couple of hours at the board and you can spend a couple of hours on that board.”
“Maybe even we’ll eat four desserts,” Pee-wee shouted.