"Let us defer the biscuit for this time, and have a smoking dish of
corn-meal mush instead," suggested Winn. "It is one of the hardest
things in the world to cook, but I know the trick to perfection."
"Mush, mush, mush, tooral-i-addy," sang Binney. At that moment Bim
began to growl, and to sniff at the bottom of the door. They opened it
and looked out. No one was there, nor did they hear a sound. Darkness
had already set in, and they could see nothing. Bim ran to the edge of
the raft, barked once or twice, and then returned to his place near the
stove.
"It must have been your singing that excited him, Grip," remarked Billy
Brackett. "He generally acts that way when a person sings, and I have
heretofore attributed it to envy, though I don't see how it could have
been in this case."
After supper Billy Brackett went into town to call on the telegraph
operator, with whom he had established friendly relations, and to
receive some despatches that he was expecting. He had not been gone
long before Bim, who had been left behind, again began to show signs of
uneasiness, and intimate a desire to be let out.
Again the door was opened for him, and again he rushed out into the
darkness. This time retreating footsteps and the rustling of bushes on
the bank were distinctly heard.
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