“A pack; done up in a bundle and tied on our backs.”
“You must think I’m a mule,” Rob grumbled. “All right, though, I don’t want to spoil anyone’s fun.”
And so it was finally settled that they were to start out bright and early after breakfast the next morning. The matter of rations was left to Malcolm because, as Rob put it, he could look pathetic and move the cook’s heart. It was necessary to obtain permission for the expedition and Rob attended to that that evening.
“I told Doc,” he related after supper, “that we were taking Evan up to show him the beauties of the surrounding country. And Doc was real pleased; said it was very thoughtful of me and showed a nice disposition. I guess I made a hit all right.”
“What are we going to take to eat?” asked Evan.
“Steak and potatoes and bread and coffee,” answered Malcolm. “We’ll broil the steak over the fire and bake the potatoes—”
“And boil the bread and toast the coffee,” interrupted Rob flippantly. “You talk like a guinea-pig, Mal! Isn’t there going to be any pie or doughnuts?”
“Yes, if I can raise them.”
“I hope you can. Doughnuts ought to be raised, oughtn’t they? I’ll carry the doughnuts because they’ll be light.”