“No, I’m not strong enough yet to do that,” Bennie laughed.
“You never will be!” Dumplin’ retorted, filling his plate again.
After their supper the boys hung their wet clothes by the camp fire, and huddled by it themselves for a while, but Uncle Billy soon ordered them to bed, and they didn’t need to be told twice.
The doctor came into the tent after they had crawled into the grateful, warm blankets on the comfortable air cushions of their sleeping bags.
“All right?” he asked.
“Uncle Bill,” said Bennie, “it was my fault we crossed the lake. Spider didn’t have a thing to do with planning the trip.”
“No, we were both to blame,” put in Spider. “We knew we couldn’t row all around the lake, and we wanted to see the grotto and Llao Rock both, so we cut across. I—I guess we didn’t really think.”
“We won’t say anything more about it,” the doctor answered. “It’s come out all right. But maybe next time you’ll believe that I know more about this country than you do, and when I ask for a promise, it isn’t just an old maid’s fancy.”
“Yes, sir,” they both answered.
When he had gone out, Spider whispered across the tent, “He’s a peach, your uncle. Gee, he didn’t bawl us out a bit.”