I was so surprised I didn’t say a word, and I guess Mark was surprised too. But he didn’t let on.
“I was expectin’ you’d c-c-come along next,” says he.
“I sort of figgered you’d try something to-night,” says Jiggins.
“It was carelessness, me f-f-forgettin’ those paddles,” says Mark.
“Fellow can’t think of everything,” says Jiggins, like he was trying to keep Mark from feeling bad. “Better come back to bed. Need sleep. So do I. So does Collins.”
Mark got out of the canoe, slow as molasses. He didn’t like to come a bit, but he couldn’t help himself.
“N-n-next time,” says he, “I won’t forget anythin’.”
“When’ll next time be?” Jiggins asked, with a sort of chuckle.
“There hain’t much time left,” I whispered to him.
“There’s t-to-morrow and t-to-morrow night,” he says.
“Somehow I don’t feel a bit sleepy,” I told Mark.
“N-n-neither do I.” He stopped a minnit and tugged at his button of a nose. “But I’m hungry. L-let’s get somethin’ to eat.”
We rummaged around till we found a box of crackers, and we started in on them.
“Hey!” says Collins, from the tent. “What you up to now?”
We heard somebody stirring around, and then Jiggins crawled out.
“What you got?” he asked. “Um. Lemme see. Crackers, eh? Gimme some. Gimme a handful. What you mean, eating without offering me any? Always willing to eat. Always.”
We passed the box to him, and he took half a dozen. You couldn’t get away from it, he was a lot like Mark Tidd. Fat, always hungry, and had a lot of brains. I wondered if Mark would be like him when he grew up, but I thought not. I don’t know why, but there was something different about Mark. It was hard to figure out just what it was, but I guess it was a combination of things. Mark was funnier and liked funny things more. And he was surer of himself. When Mark started to do a thing he never had the least bit of doubt he’d come out all right. Jiggins, it seemed to me, was a little worried at times.
“Got enough?” Collins called. “’Cause I want to get to sleep.”
“That’s why he’s thin,” says Jiggins to Mark. “No interest in food. Always sticking up his nose at eating. Thin. Skinny. Don’t weigh any more’n a good-sized feather. It’s his stomach. Worries about it. Didn’t eat between meals. Silly, eh? We don’t think that way, eh, son?”