"Supper is ready, but no one has had any yet.

My stomach feels like an empty balloon." "All right, then," agreed Darrin gruffly, "though I'd sooner catch that fellow than eat." "That word, 'eat,' sounds like a poem!" sighed Greg, tightening his belt as the quartette turned campward.
"So you didn't get a single glimpse of your---your annoyer ?" asked Prescott.
"Not what you could call a glimpse," Darrin responded.

"Two or three times I caught sight of the fellow's shirt sleeves as he passed the rope around me.

His shirt sleeves were of a light tan color, so I suppose that is the color of his entire shirt.
That, however, is the sole clue I have to the scoundrel's description." "I'd like to meet the fellow," mused Dick.
"Maybe you'll have that pleasure," hinted Darry with the nearest approach to a smile he had yet shown.
"You mean you'd like to see me tied up in the same fashion, and then discover whether I could keep my temper under such circumstances ?" laughed young Prescott.
"Never mind what I mean," Dave retorted.
They were soon in camp, now, after calling to Dan and Harry two or three times in order to locate their way.

At last, however, they came in sight of the glowing embers of fire and the rays of the two lanterns that Dan had lighted and hung up.
"I smell something that smells mighty good," sniffed Dave.