“You remember us?” laughed Roy.
“I should think I did, but you’re the last persons I ever expected to see. Isn’t it lovely, your coming again—just as if you had dropped from the clouds!”
“We’d have been some shower, wouldn’t we?” laughed Roy.
“Oh, I think it’s fine,” she repeated; “and you’ve got to stay to supper. We’re going to have popovers—do you like popovers? I adore them!”
“We don’t know what they are,” said Roy, “but we like them.”
They sat down in the wicker chairs which formed a little circle on the deep, shaded porch, the girl swinging her feet back and forth and gazing from one to the other.
“We’ve been up to camp,” Tom began. “We’re on our way down the river.”
“Oh, isn’t that lovely—I wish I was a boy! How’s the boat?”
“Gee, it is great being a boy,” said Pee-wee. “I—”
“The boat is in the best of health, thank you,” interrupted Roy, fearing that Pee-wee would say too much; “and one of the reasons we hiked up here is because we want to pay you back for it. As Pee-wee says, a scout has to be cautious and he didn’t want us to pay you back till we were sure the boat was all right.”