Chapter Eight
The next morning, Myrtle was finishing up lunch with Jack at the ship’s largest buffet restaurant. Jack had lots of chicken fingers and Myrtle had indulged in salmon once more. “Oh look,” said Myrtle to Jack. “There’s Mr. Miles.”
Jack peered thoughtfully at Miles as he slowly approached, carrying a plate of food. “Him tired,” he said knowledgeably.
“I believe you’re right, Jack,” said Myrtle with a smile. To Miles she said, “Jack says you look tired. Was it really only seven miles, or did your guide get lost and make it longer?”
“Sadly, it was only seven miles. But it wasn’t all flat. Or maybe I’m just completely out of shape. I’m going to be sore tomorrow, no doubt,” said Miles, grimacing. He sat down next to Jack. “The bald eagles were beautiful, though. And it was so g
