If the unknown creature that had taken to haunting Russabaga Camp came again between midnight and the break of day no one was any the wiser for his visit. With the first streaks of early dawn there were signs of activity about the camp, and one by one the boys began to make their appearance.
There was a chill in the air on this morning, making it quite different from several preceding ones, and many of the boys were seen to shiver when indulging in the usual morning dip.
But it would have to be something wonderful that could hinder those amazing appetites of theirs from gripping them. Every one seemed anxious to have a hand in assisting Sunny Jim in getting breakfast, until Mr. Bartlett was compelled to call half a dozen of the boys away.
“‘Too many cooks spoil the broth,’” he told them. “You’re only hindering Jim when you hang around that way. Some of you swing the axe, and cut more firewood. It disappears mighty fast, you notice. Others can fetch the blankets out and fasten them on the lines for their morning airing.”
In the end breakfast was announced. The main dish on this morning consisted of fried slices of home-cured ham and fresh eggs turned over in the skillets. There was besides plenty of boiled hominy, of the fine variety which in the South goes by the name of “grits.” To finish up with all the pan-cakes were provided that any boy could swallow. They were, however, called “flap-jacks” by the campers, it being understood that a heavy fine or penalty awaited the one who dared designate them as “griddle-cakes,” “pan-cakes,” or “flannel-cakes.” That would make them feel as if they were eating at home, with a white table-cloth and china in evidence, instead of off in the wilds far from the busy haunts of men.
There were some other “haunts” apparently, that bothered several of the boys considerably, Nat in particular. He had not recovered from his shock of the preceding night, nor could any of the other boys find it in their hearts to blame him very much.
Nat Silmore had always been known as a bully, afraid, in fact, of nothing that walked on two legs; and to hear him candidly admitting that he was genuinely disposed to quit the camp on account of his anxieties gave several of the boys a feeling of real alarm.
Dick managed to get Leslie aside after they had finished breakfast, though most of the others still lingered at the table. In fact some of them could not find the heart to get up so long as a single “flap-jack” remained.
“What do you think of it?” Dick asked his best chum.
“I have to jump at conclusions when you fire that question right at me,” replied Leslie, with a broad smile; “so I reckon you must mean about the thing Nat saw, or thought he saw last night.”