Bluff acted as though he would have a fit.
“All there was,” he shouted, “that beats anything I ever heard. And Frank said the grocery-man had doubled his order, and put up four pounds! Say, we’ll have rice every way under the sun up to the day we pull up stakes and get out of here. Still she boils! If you don’t take care the blooming thing’ll put the fire out.”
Finally he condescended to help poor Will, and some of the rice was scooped out of the kettle, relieving the congestion. Still, what to do with the vast quantity of half-cooked rice was a question calculated to appall Will during the balance of the day.
He finally compromised by secretly burying a large portion where he calculated none of his chums would find it again.
Bluff assisted in getting some lunch ready, and Will was very meek after that experience. He grimly determined that he would pay more attention to what the others were doing when preparing meals, and by degrees learn the secret of cooking.
“Did you get your little game trap set?” asked Bluff after they had eaten, and lay around taking it easy.
“Everything is ready for the coming of the night. I’ll expect to find the cheap little camera which I brought along for that especial purpose, doing its work. No matter, it’s worth a trial, anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” remarked Will.
“Rice, for instance,” ventured Bluff, turning his head to look at the great snow-white heap that covered a spread-out newspaper nearby, since they had to empty the cooking utensils which Will had filled one after the other.
“Oh! I admit that was a fine joke on me, all right, and I suppose I’ll have to just stand the digs of the boys for a while. But it’s spurred me on, and sooner or later I’m bound to be a chef worth mentioning. I guess they haven’t found any sort of game on their trip around the island, do you?”
“I heard no shot to tell of it,” admitted Bluff. He was lying on his back and apparently ready for a nap.