“Upon the roof, my boy,” grinned Kent. “All we have to do is to toss a rope up and snake it down. Once it descends to the ground, we will fall on it tooth and nail and reduce it to kindling wood!”
Mac seized his ax with alacrity. “And that means that the next time wood is cut, those two have to cut it wherever they can find it, doesn’t it? That’s fine! Let’s go!”
“We’re sold,” Barry smiled at Tim. “The boys have put one over on us.”
Mac and Kent went to work at once on the limb that hung over the peak of the roof. Standing on Kent’s shoulders, the twin looped a rope over a jagged stump of a limb and then jumped to the ground. Both of them pulled on the rope and the limb came sliding down the roof and thudded to the ground.
“A good, dry piece of timber,” Kent exulted. “This will be easy to chop up for firewood.”
They fell to their task with a will and soon had an ever-growing pile heaped up close to the front door. Barry came out to get some of it, and Tim started the fire in the rusty stove. Before long the delicious smell of bacon drifted out to the wood-choppers. Mac stopped and sniffed with rapture.
“Boy, just smell that bacon! Isn’t that the finest aroma in the world?”
“It certainly is when you are out camping,” Kent granted. “Everything seems to taste so good when you are out in the open a whole lot.”
“Bacon, eggs, and coffee! What a combination! Say, while you fellows are at Fox Point today, why don’t you get some sausage?”
“We’ll ask Barry, or whoever goes, to get it.”