“Oh, I heard such a bully story to-day,” interrupted Aleck Hunt. “It was about—let me see—oh, yes; I remember——”
“Never mind the story. You can’t get out of cooking that way.”
“Honest—I don’t believe I could even boil water,” pleaded Aleck. “We’re all feeling pretty well just now, and it wouldn’t do to take any risks, you know. Now Joe——”
“Who said I could cook?” demanded Joe, arching his eyebrows. “If you had mentioned Fred——”
“Yes; I’ll do it the very first day,” declared Fred, eagerly.
But Jack looked at him with a suspicious smile, and winked.
“Oh, no, my boy,” he said; “we’ll take turns; but yours won’t come the first day. How about that story of yours, Aleck?”
“Won’t tell it now,” grumbled Aleck. “Hello! Who’s that out there?”
Some one had jumped on the deck of the boat. Next instant, the door swung partly open and a man peered in. He was a large, strong-looking man, and, as he pushed the door open wider, the boys saw that he carried a basket.
“Mornin’, gents!” he said, in a very hoarse voice. “I was purty sure I heard some one in here. Any of you want to buy a purp? I’ve got the likeliest little fellers you ever see. Not one of ’em but hain’t got a pedigree.” And he plunged his hand into the basket and drew forth a small, wriggling puppy which voiced a protest to such a proceeding in a plaintive wail.