ecided to
cut off a couple of slices from the big ham, and with some of the
already boiled potatoes fried crisp and brown, make that the main dish
for their first supper.

Soon delicious odors began to arise and be wafted away on the evening
air. If any of those curious little woods rodents that might be peeping
from their covert at the invaders of their solitude had a nose capable
of appreciating such perfumes, they must have been greatly edified by
these queer goings-on.

But hungry boys have no thought save to satisfy their clamorous
appetites, and so little unnecessary talking was done up to the time
when the trio curled themselves up with their feet under them, tailor
fashion, and proceeded to clean off their heaping pie pans of the savory
mess that had been prepared.

CHAPTER III

THE FIRST NIGHT UNDER CANVAS

"This is something that just can't be beat!" Toby remarked, after he had
made serious inroads upon his first helping, and taken off the keen edge
of his clamorous appetite. "I enjoy my food at home all right, but let
me tell you nothing can ever quite come up to a supper cooked under the
trees, and far removed from all the things you're accustomed to meeting
every day."

"And this coffee is sure nectar for the gods," said Steve, helping
himself to a second cup as he spoke. "Now, at home I never can bear this
tinned cream, yet, strange to say, up here in the woods it seems to go
first rate. Pass me the sugar, please, Jack. And Toby, after I've
slacked my hunger a bit so I can act half way decent I'm meaning to
toast some of the slices of bread at that splendid red-ash fire."

So they continued to sit there and fairly gorge themselves until Steve
could hardly sigh, he was so full; but then all boys are built pretty
much alike in that respect, so we can easily forgive Steve in
particular. Cutting wood does put an edge on a naturally keen appetite
that knows no limit save capacity; and Steve had many good qualities to
more than balance his greediness.

Later on when they lay around enjoying the sight of the crackling fire,
and casting pleased glances toward the capacious khaki-colored
waterproof tent that stood close by, they talked of many things that had
some connection with their intended stay in the Pontico Hills country.

"This sweet little stream with the ice-cold water is the Spruce Creek
you've got marked on your map, of course, Jack?" suggested Toby. "Now
how far away would you say P