“Then you and Mr. Winthrope should immediately arm yourselves.”
“How?–But we’ll leave that till later. What else?”
The girl gazed at the surrounding objects, her forehead wrinkled in the effort at concentration. “We must have water. Think how we suffered yesterday! Then there is shelter from wild beasts, and food, and–”
“All right here under our hands, if we had fire. Understand?”
“I understand about the water. You would frighten the leopard away with the fire; and if it would do that, it would also keep away the other animals at night. But as for food, unless we return for cocoanuts–”
“Don’t give it up! Keep your thinker going on the side, while Pat tells us our next move. Now that he’s got the fire sticks out of his head–”
“I say, Blake, I wish you would drop that name. It is no harder to say Winthrope.”
“You’re off, there,” rejoined Blake. “But look here, I’ll make it Win, if you figure out what we ought to do next.”
“Really, Blake, that would not be half bad. They–er–they called me Win at Harrow.”
“That so? My English chum went to Harrow–Jimmy Scarbridge.”