over the Beatrice stove; but when they got
Beatrice out, she was found to be empty, and no more oil was in the can.
"Who is the Keeper of the Oil?" Mary asked severely.
"I am," said Jack.
"Then where is it?" they asked.
"I had it filled at Stratford," said Jack. "Why," he exclaimed,
"there's a hole in it! It's all run away! How ghastly! It will be all
over everything."
And so it was; and the worst of it was that it had leaked into the
biscuits, too. Janet came to the rescue. "We must make it a tongue and
banana meal," she said.
"I hate bananas," said Gregory.
"Now, Horace," said Janet, "where's the tin-opener?"
How is it that everything goes wrong at once? Horace had to hunt for
the tinopener for twenty minutes, and turn the whole place upside down
before he could find it, and then it was too late.
Meanwhile the rain was steadily falling, and Kink and Robert were busy
getting up the tents before the ground underneath was too wet. Robert
was the only happy one. A few difficulties seemed to him to make the
expedition more real.
He came dripping into the Slowcoach and asked for his supper; but
Horace was still hunting for the tin-opener.
"Never mind about it," said Robert. "I'll open the thing with the
hammer and a knife. But what you want, Horace, is system."
"No; what I want is food," said Horace. "I'm dying."
"So am I," said Gregory.
"Well, eat a crust to go on with," said Janet. "There's the bread."
"I hate crusts," said Gregory.
"Surely crusts are better than dying of starvation," said Mary.
"No," said Gregory, who was prepared to be thoroughly unpleasant. "No,
I'd much rather die. I think I shall go to bed."
"Yes," said Robert, "do. People who can't stand a little hunger are no
good in caravans."
"Janet," said Gregory, "how can I go to bed with my boots on?"
"Then take them off," said Janet.
"There's a knot," said Gregory.
"Well, you must wait," said Janet. "I can't leave what I'm doing."
"I hate waiting," said Gregory.
Robert, however, became suddenly very stern. He advanced on Gregory
with a knife in his hand, and, swooping on the boot, cut both laces.
"There," he said, "get into bed, and you must buy some more laces at
Cheltenham."
"I hate Cheltenham," said Gregory. But he said no more; he saw that
Robert was cross.
When, a little later, Janet took a plate of tongue over to his bunk, he
was fast asleep. The others had a dismal, grumpy meal, and they were
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