"Oh, he'll fight fire all right, if there's somethin' to eat the other
side," drawled Charley Morton.
"It's plenty," said Amy, referring to the quantity of popcorn.
"Why," spoke up California John in an aggrieved and surprised tone,
"ain't there nobody going to eat popcorn but me?"
Amy disappeared only to return bearing a cake frosted with chocolate.
The respect with which this was viewed proved that the men appreciated
to the full what was represented by chocolate cake in this altitude of
tiny stoves and scanty supplies. Again Amy dove into the store room.
This time she bore back a huge enamel-ware pitcher which she set in the
middle of the round table.
"There!" she cried, her cheeks red with triumph.
"What you got, Amy?" asked her brother.
Ross Fletcher leaned forward to look.
"Great guns!" he cried.
The men jostled around, striving for a glimpse, half in joke, half in
genuine curiosity.
"Lemonade!" cried Ware.
"None of your lime juice either," pronounced California John; "look at
the genuine article floatin' around on top."
They turned to Amy.
"Where did you get them?" they demanded.
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