“I know which is north and which is south,” I said, very sarcastic, “and anyway, I stay awake while I’m turning around. Do you think Cruson Robsoe got mad just because he was on a desert island? All he had was a footprint in the sand and we’ve got a fish—to look at. Isn’t he pretty? I bet there’s nice white meat inside of him, and a lot of bones. I wonder if he has a funny-bone? As long as we can’t get away from here let’s each tell our favorite dessert. I say let’s die bravely, like boy scouts, hungry to the end.” All of a sudden, _good night_, Garry nearly fell off the railing; he was waving his hands and shouting, “A sail! A sail!” “What kind of a sale?” Bert asked him. “A special sale or a cake sale or what? If it’s a cake sale lead me to it.” Garry just kept shouting, “A sail! A sail! A sail on the horizon!” “I don’t see any horizon,” I said. “Where is it?” “Along there through the woods,” he said. “A sail! A sail! We are shaved!” “What are you shouting about?” I said. “That isn’t a sail, it’s a Ford car! Hurrah! Hurrah! And a couple of hips!” ----- * The darky cook at Temple Camp. CHAPTER XV WE FORM A RESOLVE We all started shouting, “We are shaved! We are shaved! A Fraud car! A Fraud car on the horizon!” I guess the driver of that Ford car thought we were crazy. “I hope he’ll stop before he runs into the creek,” Warde said. The car was coming along the turnpike at the rate of about a half a million miles a year and I shouted, “Hey, mister, whoever you are, please stop before you get here; it was raining last night and the water is wet.” “Stop your fooling,” the kid said. I said, “Do you think I want that car to come plunging into the creek? Suppose that driver is blind.” “She’s coming under full sail,” Garry said. “Hurrah!” they all shouted. “She’s missing in one cylinder,” Bert said. Then we all started shouting, “Saved! At last we are saved!” Just then, _good night_, that Ford car turned off into a side road and we couldn’t see it any more. “Now you see what you get for fooling,” the kid shot at me. “If we had shouted ‘help’ all together as loud as we could he’d have come straight along. You think it’s fun being imprisoned here with nothing to eat; you make me tired. Maybe you don’t know that not much traffic comes along this old turnpike; that’s why they don’t have any bridge-tender here.” “They have tenderfoot bridge-tenders,” I said. “Maybe no one else will come along all night,” Pee-wee said, “and then what are we going to do? Suppose a wagon or an auto should come along after dark and we didn’t see it coming; it would plunge to death and then I hope you’d be satisfied.” “That’s right,” Warde said, kind of serious, “we haven’t even got a lantern to swing. How could we warn anybody?” “We can’t even shout if we don’t get something to eat,” the kid said. “Sure,” Bert said, “we’ll be so weak we won’t even be able to lift our voices.”