Having been so thoroughly aroused from their sleep the travelers decided to sit up a while and see if they could catch another glimpse of the strange man and woman. But, though they sat and talked for more than an hour, there was no further sign of the two queer creatures.
“I’m going to bed,” announced Bob at length, and the others decided to follow his example. They slept soundly until morning, though Jerry said afterward that he dreamed he was being chased across the frozen lake by a white haired man on a black horse. He got stuck in the ice, and was freezing to death, when he awakened to find that his blanket had slipped from him, and that a cold rain was blowing in through the cracks of the shack. Morning had dawned cold and dreary.
“Wow! This isn’t exactly pleasant!” exclaimed Jerry, as he poked his head out of the front of the screen of branches. “I wish there was a hotel handy.”
The others crawled from beneath the blankets, not in any too good humor at the dismal prospect.
“And I’ll bet there isn’t any dry wood to be had,” said Bob. “That means a cold breakfast.”
A search proved that he was right. Nor was there any charcoal, since the last had been used some days before, and they had been to no place where they could get more.
“Just when a fellow needs a hot cup of coffee,” went on Bob. “I never saw such beastly luck.”
Jerry said nothing. He seemed to be studying over some matter.
“I have it,” he exclaimed.
“What? Some dry wood?” asked Ned with much eagerness.