“Do we have to walk much?” Brent asked.
“Why, as I understand it, Tom can push his flivver up a kind of trail to within a mile or so of the camp. That isn’t so bad is it?”
“The flivver?” Brent drawled.
“No, the walk,” I said. “You don’t have to have a wheel-chair just for a mile or so. Come ahead, Brent; Tom always says when you’re along something’s sure to happen. You can take some books along, you don’t have to work.”
“Is that a promise?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
“How long do we linger near to nature’s heart?”
“Maybe two or three weeks, maybe all summer,” I said.
“I’m not supposed to take an axe or a gun or anything?”
“You can sit indoors all day long and read.”