“Roy meant,” began Harry anxiously, “that—”
“Don’t tell me,” interrupted Mr. Cole. “It might spoil it. Now, where’s this camp of yours, boys?”
Roy explained and told him that they would like very much to have him come and see them.
“Of course I’ll come,” answered the artist heartily. “And you come and see me, any time. If I’m at work, why, here’s some books and there’s the ready-made music.” He pointed to the talking-machine. “You can’t disturb me, so come around whenever you like while I’m here. And we’ll have a dinner-party some time, maybe, when I get some provisions in.”
They made their adieus, their host accompanying them to land and shaking them each by the hand with a pressure that made them gasp. Jack, too, followed, wagging his tail in friendly farewell, and Beastie stood at the doorway and blinked benevolently.
“You needn’t be afraid of Jack the next time,” said Mr. Cole. “He knows you now. Good-by, good-by. Come again. The bear’s den is always open, and if I’m not here make yourselves at home.” He waved one big brown hand in farewell as they passed around the point.
Harry