“Say, but that was something like,” murmured Blake. “If only we’d had pretzels and beer to go with it! But these nuts won’t be bad.”
When they finished the cocoanuts, Winthrope asked for a drink of water.
“Would it not be best to keep it until later?” replied Miss Leslie.
“Sure,” put in Blake. “We’ve had enough liquid refreshments to do any one. If I don’t look out, you’ll both be drinking river water. Just bear in mind the work I’d have to carve a pair of gravestones. No; that flask has got to do you till we get home. I don’t shin up any more telegraph poles to-day.”
“Would it not be best for Mr. Winthrope to rest during the noon hours?”
“’Fraid not, Miss Jenny. We’re not on t’other side of Jordan yet, and there’s no rest for the weary this side.”
“What odd expressions you use, Mr. Blake!”
“Just giving you the reverse application of one of those songs they jolly us with in the mission churches–”
“I’m sure, Mr. Blake–”
“Me, too, Miss Jenny! So, as that’s settled, we’ll be moving. Chuck some live coals in the pot, and come on.”