“It’s going to rain; and you’re shivering, too,” he added as he took her outstretched hand at the top of the steps. “The first thing to do is to make a fire.”
“Can you? Have you any matches?”
“No, but I guess there will be some coals under the ashes.”
They went down and raked over the fireplace, but the boys had obeyed the rules only too well; every vestige of live coal was gone.
For a minute they stood speechless, looking out over the dark and angry water. There seemed to Erminie absolutely nothing further to be done. She was worn and faint, and with difficulty restrained her tears.
“There’s nothing for it but to try to make a fire camp fashion. It will be tough work, even if it doesn’t rain.”
As if in answer to this last, another gust swept through the trees, louder than the first.
“Erminie, you’re just all right. You’ve never once hinted that I was the boss slob to get you into this.”
“Why, Billy, I wouldn’t think of such a thing. I saw as plain as you that half-past ten was the leaving hour. It’s the fault of the steamer people; or——Are you sure your watch is right?”
“Yes. It’s never failed yet. My brother Hal said it was guaranteed. He gave it to me. It hasn’t varied a minute in two months. But this isn’t work. You go back and cuddle as close in that corner as you can, little girl, and try to keep warm, while I see what I can do with my jack knife. Here’s a time when a fellow that smokes has the advantage.”