The Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron | Page 5

I don't expect ever to do it again, I just couldn't keep from
spending one night in the woods to revive old recollections. But I'm
tickled to death at the idea of having company, for it does get mighty
lonesome sometimes. Whatever are you doing up here, Hugh and
Bud?"
So, as Hugh waited for his companion to explain, Bud began to tell
how he had been up to his old tricks again and believed that he had
invented something that was going to be a stunning success; also, that
he had coaxed accommodating Hugh to go off with him in order to try
it out in secret.
"Of course, since we find you in possession of the shanty where we

meant to put up for one or two nights," Bud continued, with a grin,
"why, I'll have to let you share my secret tomorrow when we start to try
it out. Till then don't ask questions and I'll tell you no lies. And I want
to inform you right now that what you're cooking for supper sets my
nerves on edge, it smells so good."
"That's lucky," remarked Ralph, "for I have just four more fat juicy
quail on hand. I made a double shot into a covey that got up in the
brush. If you fellows say the word, I'll start right away to get them
ready for the pan."
"You'll do nothing of the kind," chuckled Hugh, who, like Bud, had
deposited his burden in a corner, "we're only too glad of a chance to
help pluck a few feathers ourselves. It's enough that you make us a
present of what you meant probably to take home to your mother."
"Oh! I can get others later on," observed Ralph, as he pointed to the
little heap of brown and black feathers which marked the spot where
the unused birds lay. "You see, she's not feeling very well, my mother,
I mean, and somehow quail on toast always appeals to her. But while
you're working there, let me make more coffee. Have you got cups and
such things along in your packs, boys?"
"We have," declared the overjoyed Bud; "and this bird is just prime;
never saw a fatter one, I declare. Say, Hugh, we didn't expect such a
bully treat as this, did we, when we aimed to get here in time to cook
supper?"
Preparations progressed rapidly. As Ralph had already stowed away
quite a large quantity of wood for use during the night, that labor was
spared the two late arrivals, which fact pleased Bud very much. He
could work as hard as the next one when interested in what he was
doing, but gathering fuel had never appealed to him in the same way it
did to Billy Worth, who was all the time figuring out what splendid
things the wood could be used to cook.
As the three boys sat around eating the evening meal, they chatted in a
lively manner. Hugh told how he and Bud had had a fine lift by means

of the farmer's wagon, and then continued:
"I suppose you started this morning, and on that account missed your
Thanksgiving turkey, Ralph? But you said your mother was not feeling
well; and so perhaps the feast has been postponed at your house to a
more convenient time?"
"Just what it has," replied the other. "You see my married sisters are
expected home on Saturday night, and so mother decided to let the big
dinner go until Sunday, when we'll all be together again. I just took a
snack to munch on at noon, and brought some things to cook. I got here
two hours back, and had plenty of time to fix things as I wanted them
for my one night out."
"Perhaps you'll make it two, if we decide to stay that long, eh, Ralph?"
asked Bud, who was feeling much more warmly toward the other since
partaking of the delicious quail. "You see, we've got plenty of rations
along for three, and you'd be as welcome to share with us as a shower
in June."
"I'll see about that to-morrow afternoon, Bud," replied the other. "But
before I forget it, I want to tell you boys about a couple of queer men I
happened to see while coming through the woods not more than a mile
or so away from here."
"P'raps timber prospectors" suggested Hugh; "I've known of such men
to come up in this region trying to spy out new fields for operating their
destructive saw-mills. Somehow I hate to see the forest wiped out that
way. A tree takes some hundreds of years to mature, and then it goes
down in a heap, to be sawed up into boards. It seems like a shame to
me