tarted again. Don was sorry he had spoken so hastily. So far Tim
had been a real partner. He made up his mind that he'd think twice before
he spoke sharply again. You had to handle a fellow like Tim with gloves.

As for Tim, the hot, angry blood was still in his cheeks. What did Don
mean by jumping on him? He wouldn't stand for it. He was to blame! How
about Don being to blame for not answering the signal?

"Tim!" Don called from the rear. "How about making camp? It's getting
late."

"Nothing doing," said Tim. "We're between blazes. In the morning we
wouldn't know which way to start."

"We have compasses," said Don.

Tim was just stubborn enough to refuse to listen to reason. Besides, he
felt that his judgment was questioned.

"We'll camp at the next blaze," he said. "Then we'll know where we are."

After a moment of hesitation Don followed. The easiest way was best.

They soon reached the blaze. Tim began to gather leaves and young twigs
for his bed. Before long he knew that he had blundered again. It took
time to make a camp bed properly, and the failing light would not give
him the time. He had made camp too late.

The knowledge of his second mistake increased his ill humor. He spread
his poncho and sat on the bed. Don still gathered leaves.

"Trying to rub it in," Tim reflected. "Just like telling me, 'See, why
didn't you camp when I said so?'"

Don turned from his bed, dived into his pack and brought out a can.

"How about eats, Tim?"

Tim was disgusted with the whole adventure. In this black mood he did not
relish the thought of cold food in the dark. He wanted light, and a hot
drink--something to chase away the gloom.

He kicked together some wood. He found small twigs, broke them and made a
pile. Then he drew out matches.

Don was opening a can. "What's wrong, Tim?"

"I'm going to have a fire."

"Fire?" Don dropped the can. "Good night! do you want the Eagles and
Foxes coming down and gobbling us?"

"Piffle!" said Tim. "Do you think _they'll_ sit around in the dark?
Anyway, I want a cup of coffee."

Don drew a deep breath. Why hadn't he brought Andy Ford! However, it was
too late for regrets. Once Mr. Wall had said that sometimes a fellow had
to brace his legs and stand firm. One of those times had come.

"There'll be no fire," he said in a voice he did not recognize as his
own.

"There will be a fire," Tim retorted. "I worked as hard as you today. You
can't say I didn't. But I'm not go