“No, you didn’t. But your legs did when you jumped up so suddenly. Henry, do you know that, probably because of your great service to the government as weather man, the United States Navy has a war ship named after you?” Henry’s blue eyes bugged. “No’m, I didn’t,” he gasped. “D’ye honestly mean to tell me they got a ship they call th’ Richkirk?” “No,” said Mary Temple. “It’s called the Marblehead. Good night.” CHAPTER XI THE TRAIL TO MOSQUITO ANDY JEROME was up early the following morning, even before Shirttail Henry was astir. He went to the creek, broke a thin sheet of ice, and washed his hands and face. Then, quite proud of his achievement, he stepped briskly back to camp to start a fire, only to find that newly laid kindling had been lighted while he was at his toilet. Now came Mary Temple, her lean arms encircling a big load of Henry’s firewood, proving that she herself was still supreme as the early riser of the party. “Well, Mary, you’re a wonder!” Andy praised her. “I thought that for once I’d beaten you to it. Good morning.” “Get another armload of wood,” said Mary. “Good morning.” Andy returned from the wood pile and let his burden clatter on the ground. “What’s for breakfast?” “Beans.” “Good! Beans are the stuff in camp, all right.” “They’re the stuff in the Palace Hotel,” said Mary. “Beans conquered the West. They won the war. They’re--” “Oh, don’t tell me about the marvellous bean,” Andy cut in. “I’ve always been a bean hound. And I’ll bet you can cook ’em, too. You’re a wonderful cook, Mary, do you know it?” “I’ve hinted as much to myself a couple of times,” Mary sniffed. “But I’m nothing compared with my brother Ed.” Mary was diligently searching in a pack-bag as she talked. “That so?” “Yes, Ed was a master cook--a chef. He worked for one of the big bean-canning factories back East until they fired him.” “That was too bad,” Andy sympathized. “What was the difficulty?--if I’m not too inquisitive.” “Ed killed a woman,” Mary explained, still fumbling in the bag. Andy said nothing; the topic of their conversation seemed to be growing a little delicate. “Killed a woman he’d never seen,” Mary added. “Mary Temple, are you trying to kid me?” asked Andy warily. “To this day we don’t know her name,” Mary went on, still searching. “But we know Ed killed her.” “Spring it--I’ll bite. How’d he kill her?” “He put two bites of pork in a can of pork and beans instead of one,” said Mary. “And I know the woman that opened that can dropped dead. Anyway, they fired Ed for wasting the company’s profits.” She stood erect with a can-opener in one hand and a large can labelled Pork and Beans in the other, and without a smile began the conflict between them. “Better wake the doctor,” she advised. “The wonderful cook will have breakfast ready in no time this morning. She and you and the doctor can draw straws for the pork--I don’t care for it. Here comes the good ship Marblehead.”