“That’s all. John Muir used to climb for two or three days in the high Sierras on a pocketful of raisins, and didn’t even carry a blanket. Come on, get busy.”
Everybody obeyed, and the doctor saw to it that they didn’t take too many of their raisin supply, either.
“I consider this a Lucullan feast,” remarked Mr. Stone.
“Whatever that is,” said Bennie. “If you mean some banquet, I’m right along with you. Always did like these seven-course dinners.”
“Anyhow, it won’t take long to wash the dishes,” Spider reflected.
As soon as the raisins and chocolate were eaten, and the canteens refilled, they picked up their packs and blankets again and put them on.
“Gosh! mine weighs more’n it did,” said Bennie. “Somebody’s put something into it.”
“Mine, too.”
“Mine, too.”
“Mine, too.”