I suppose they blew down in the storms lately.
"What would be the use ?" he asked; "you can see what's down there.

If we're going to get those letters onto a mail train, we've got to hustle." That was enough for me, because I cared more about Skinny than I did about all the old creek bottoms and holes in the ground this side of Jericho.

So I just said, "Righto," and we started following the old creek bed, till pretty soon the bushes were so thick that we hit up north of it a little ways and hiked straight over to the houseboat.
When we got to the house-boat we lowered the skiff and rowed across to Catskill and mailed the letters.

Then we went up the street for a couple of sodas.

Bert bought some peanut brittle, too--I'm crazy about that.