“How did you get here?”
“Where did you come from?”
“Were you looking for us?”
These were some of the questions rapidly fired back and forth.
“Say!” cried Blake, at length. “Have you anything to eat? We’re most starved—nothing but some pilot biscuits that we found in a tin.”
“There!” cried Birdie Lee. “I knew we left those biscuits behind. We must have dropped them when we moved our camp. And I did so want them with the canned clam chowder.”
“Clam chowder!” cried Joe. “Say, where is it? I’ll eat the can itself!”
“But where did you come from? How did you get here?” asked Mr. Levinberg.
“Let’s feed them first, and have explanations afterward,” suggested Birdie Lee, as she clasped a hand each, of Blake and Joe. “Oh, we are so glad to see you!” she cried, impulsively.
“Just a word of explanation!” begged Mr. Ringold. “I can’t understand this. How did you folks get here? We’ve been looking for you all along the river.”