“There’s one thing we must do when we get to the Soo,” said Teddy, firmly.
“I know what you’re going to say,” declared Dolph, “and you can just bank on me backing you up in it, too.”
“We’ll see Sallie’s grandmother and make her understand that when the child comes back to her again to stay a spell, she must never let her go away again. I reckon she don’t know what kind of a man Crawley is, because Sallie would never say a word against her father. But this thing has got to stop.”
When Teddy spoke in that way, the others just knew he meant it, and the chances were little Sallie would sooner or later find that she would not be allowed to make the sacrifice of her health and happiness, in the useless expectation that by so doing she might possibly reform that hopeless, drunken rascal she called father.
So the boys pushed on in a direct line. Tired as they were, they would not let anything keep them from carrying out their plans.
About two hours after midnight they came upon the shore of the lake, with the battered old moon showing them the beloved khaki-colored tent, just as they had left it.