“Well,” said Tom, “listen and we’ll tell you the whole story. We’ve been having our revenge.”
And Tom related the story of the night’s adventures.
Good Mrs. Warren fairly hugged them with delight when they had concluded.
“That’s just splendid,” she cried. “That’s a splendid revenge. That’s the kind that counts for most. But I want to hear Jack Harvey tell the story now. I know you haven’t told half about the rescue. I want to hear him tell how brave you were.”
“He’ll exaggerate it,” said Bob. “He’s our friend, you know, now.”
“Well, I’m glad enough you are all friends,” exclaimed Mrs. Warren. “You must go and tell Henry Burns.”
When Jack Harvey and his crew had returned from the haunted house, and had anchored off the point and had brought the tent ashore, they found assembled there to greet them the entire group of comrades, the Warren boys, Henry Burns, and Tom and Bob.
There was a general hand-shaking all around, and then they all set to work to pitch the tent. It didn’t take long to do it, either, for Tom and Bob had saved the poles that had supported the canvas, and there were hands enough to jump at every rope and bring it taut into place. And everybody went at it in such good spirit, and everybody was so pleased and so willing to lend a hand, that the tent was up in its old place again almost as quick as it had come down.
Then they rushed off in high spirits to the Warren cottage for the camp-kit and the boxes and the blankets and all the camp equipment, and packed it down on their shoulders as fast as they had ever done anything in all their lives.
And Mrs. Warren did hear the story of the rescue from Jack Harvey’s own lips, and was prouder than ever of her boys’ friends, Tom and Bob.