“I don’t see why he couldn’t carry matches if he didn’t smoke.”
“I know one chump that will after this.”
But Erminie did not settle to uselessness.
“While you’re trying to make a fire I’ll see what was shaken out of the tablecloth. I saw them hold it over this corner; and if we could find a roll or a bit of meat,—you wouldn’t mind eating scraps just about now, would you, Billy?”
The cheer that came into her tone with the prospect of something to do heartened Billy as much as herself. “Mind? I could eat the shell right off the eggs. You’re a bright kid, you are, all right.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be something better than egg-shells.”
“Go to it. You may find a course dinner there in the grass, or at least the nice brown tint on one of Bess Carter’s biscuits.”
She laughed, which pleased him; and he went to a spot in the path where he remembered to have stubbed his toe on a projecting rock, intending to get it for a flint. But he had barely found it when she called to him.
“Billy! Billy! I’ve found a match-box with one match in it.”
“Bully! We’re saved!” He was by her side in a second.