“So would I,” thought Roy. But he didn’t say so. Instead, he followed Harry down to the galley with a sigh which this time didn’t suggest relief. For the next two hours there were great doings. Harry, with numerous towels pinned about her in lieu of an apron, and Roy, with his coat off and his sleeves tucked above his elbows, measured and mixed and beat; at least, Harry did; Roy stood by and did what he was told, but the tasks which fell to him were menial in the extreme. In spite of the limitations of space and utensils, the frying was a big success, and, as Roy was allowed to help himself to the sizzling, hot doughnuts as soon as they were sugared, he regained some degree of happiness. “There!” exclaimed Harry, when the last batch was being powdered with sugar from an improvised shaker which Roy had fashioned from a baking-powder tin by punching holes in the lid. “That makes eight dozen and three. And then you ate--how many, Roy?” “Five,” answered Roy, promptly and unblushingly. “Roy Porter! You won’t have any appetite for dinner!” “Don’t worry,” Roy laughed. “As long as you’re around I guess I’ll manage to work up an appetite. I suppose we’d better dust the river next or trim the trees.” “You’re just too lazy for anything,” laughed Harry. “For goodness’ sake go and sit down.” “Not for worlds!” he said indignantly. “I can’t bear to be idle. I shall fish from the tender. Want to come along?” Harry did, so they scrambled into the little boat with a few worms and a couple of lines, and rowed a little way into the stream. “We mustn’t go very far away,” said Harry, “in case--” “Your nightmare came back,” teased Roy. “Do you think it was that?” she asked anxiously. “Don’t you?” he answered evasively. “I don’t know. Maybe. But it didn’t seem like a dream.” “Lots of dreams don’t. Hand me the bait-can, please.” They fished for nearly an hour without having even a nibble, and then rowed disgustedly back to the boat. Shortly before noon the rest of the party returned almost empty-handed. The doctor had landed three small trout, Chub two, and Dick none. “The stream’s too small,” said the doctor. “To-morrow--” he hesitated--“if we’re still here, we’ll try the first stream and go higher up.” “Did you see our friends the Gypsies?” asked Roy. “All over the shop,” answered Chub. “We met two fishing and passed a couple more about ten minutes ago. They had two gunny-sacks on their backs, and I’ll bet they’d been stealing things. Get busy with dinner, Dick; I’m almost dead, I’m so hungry. This early breakfast business won’t do.” When the meal was ready, Chub let out a howl of delight. “Doughnuts!” he shouted. “Hooray! Where’d you get ’em?” “Made them, of course,” replied Roy, loftily. “Harry assisted me. She’s real handy about the kitchen. I don’t know what I’d have done without her.” “Huh!” said Chub. “She could have done without you, Roy. You ate more than she made.”