“You got a dance floor?” he wanted to know. I said, “No, we dance right on the grass. It’s the latest craze; we’re known as grass-hoppers. Didn’t you ever hear of the rubber band? They furnish the music.”
Gee whiz, he didn’t seem to be mad at all. And he didn’t laugh either. I guess he was really sorry thinking that maybe there were some dances that he missed. Maybe he was sorry that he could only go to one at a time.
CHAPTER XXI
THIRTY-FOUR CENTS
We left him standing near the tree and started rowing through the outlet. The right name of the outlet is Dawson’s Creek, but we always call it the outlet. By that time it was late in the afternoon, and Warde said if we were going to hike around the way the girls had said we ought to telephone to camp.
I said, “We can telephone when we get to Brookside.”
“Well, let’s not forget to do it,” Brent said.
“What about that tin box at the bottom of the lake?” Hervey asked.
“I thought so,” Brent said, kind of laughing. “Forget it. Nobody knows where it is. Maybe it isn’t.
“The fellow said it had money in it,” Hervey said. “It’s not drawing any interest down there.”
Brent said, “Well, it’s not supposed to be attracting any interest up here either, so forget it. There are nuts all over the country hunting for Captain Kidd’s treasure.”