"Then you give in to Tony, and say no fire ashore tonight?" asked Larry.
"Well, yes," was Phil's reply. "It's pretty warm anyhow to cook over a blaze. And perhaps after all it might be better for me to drop into the village of the McGee, of my own free will, rather than be taken there, apparently against it."
Again Tony sighed. Perhaps he felt that there was small chance of their passing that night so near the settlement of his people without having unwelcome visitors. Perhaps he knew only too well how the mute Barker must ere now have arrived among the shanties of the shingle-makers with his astonishing news; and that many dugouts would soon be scouring the river in search for the remarkable motor boat on which he, Tony, seemed an honored guest.
"I wonder if I could catch any fish here?" remarked Larry, who could not forget the success that had attended his previous efforts in the "hook and pole" line.
"Plenty everywhere along here, I should guess," remarked Phil. "So suppose you get busy, and see if you can't pull up a supper for the crowd. Fact is, old chum, you're rapidly developing into a second class scout. When you get back North you will know so much that they'll just have to get you a medal to wear. And the marks on the sleeve of your khaki jacket will about reach from your shoulder to your elbow, you'll qualify for so much."
"Aw! quit jollying me, Phil," chuckled Larry, who nevertheless seemed to enjoy the novel sensation of being complimented on his newly acquired knowledge in the line of woodcraft.
He was soon busily engaged untangling his fishing line, while Tony went ashore to hunt for grubs in old logs; and Phil employed himself otherwise. From time to time the chums exchanged a few words, with Phil taking Larry to task for persisting in calling his jointed bamboo fishing rod a "pole!"
"That goes well enough with the country boy, who has only a long bamboo pole, with the string tied at the end," he said, with the air of a schoolmaster; "but after you reach the point where you use a split bamboo jointed rod, and a fine rubber reel, it's about time you stepped up a peg, and gave things their right name."
Larry promised to be more careful in the future.
"There, I've got the tangle all out," he said, with a sigh of relief; "and here comes Tony with some bait. What is it you've got? Bully for you, Tony! My! what a nice assortment of fat grubs. I just bet you the bass will grab at 'em like hot cakes. And strange to say, I'm actually feeling a little hungry myself at the thought of supper. Well, here goes for business."