“Don’t get peeved,” Mills laughed. “Just take one drink of Joe’s coffee, and you’ll feel better.”
Then Tom laughed, too. “Well, old Joe’s a professional chef now,” he said. “I’m only a janitor. Has he been well, honest and true, Mr. Mills?”
“Far as I’ve seen, he’s as sound as the best,” Mills answered. “Why don’t you take him over and weigh him this afternoon?”
“I will,” said Tom.
And he did. They found some scales in the basement of the hotel, and Joe got on. He had gained five pounds that week, in spite of the hard work of the trip! Spider gave a shout of glee.
“Hooray!” he cried. “I told you the old ozone would do it! We’re giving the bugs the knock out. Now, when an M. D. comes along, you’re going to get the once over again, and see if you can climb.”
“I—I——” Joe began, looking rather guilty. “Well, Tom, I did climb a glacier, and fell in, too!”
“It would have served you right if they hadn’t fished you out—tell me all about it.”
All that afternoon, after Joe had given his money to Big Bertha, to keep in the office safe for him, the two boys sat by the lake shore, on a little point of rocks, taking turns fishing with the new rod, while Joe narrated the story of his trip. They caught only two smallish trout, hardly enough for a good mess, but that didn’t matter. It was too much fun telling and hearing about the wonders of the Park.
“And you’ve just had to stick around here, old Spider, working for me,” Joe exclaimed, penitently. “To-morrow, I’m going to see Big Bertha, and get him to let me run the camp for a while, so’s you can take a trip.”