“It was some hot out there on the water, son, and I’m inclined to be dopy. Please keep on guard while I take a dozen winks,” he said, pulling his hat over his face.
His dozen winks stretched out for some two hours. During this time Will busied himself in reading a little book on camp cookery which he had brought along. It looked as though he were about to study up on the subject in earnest.
Finally Bluff gave a grunt, began to move and stretch himself, and then sat up.
“Hello! I guess I must have been asleep,” he remarked.
Will drew out his little nickel watch and surveyed it.
“Two hours and thirteen minutes to the dot. A few winks, eh? When am I going to get my chance to indulge?” he demanded, sternly.
“Now, if the spirit moves. But I see you have been busy ‘conning’ that volume of camp recipes. Any dishes that call for rice there, because we’ve got it and to spare. I always liked boiled rice, with sugar and milk, even the condensed kind; but there can be too much of a good thing. I’ll be like the old dominie soon whose people fed him on rabbit every place he went.”
“How was that?” asked Will.
“Never heard that story? Well, you see, they knew he liked rabbit, so every place he ate, his host made sure to have his favorite dish. Of course the good man hated to tell them that he was getting sick of the taste of rabbit; so what d’ye think he finally hit on as a delicate way of getting a change?”
“I give it up; now tell me,” declared Will.