“Let’s camp out,” suggested Bob. “It’s nice and warm, and this looks to be a good place,” and he indicated a little group of trees across some green fields that bordered the wood. “We could run the car up in there and be well out of the way.”
“I’m willing,” assented Jerry.
“Then we’ll go to it,” declared Ned. “Let’s see if we can get across the fields safely.”
They stopped the car and walked on a little way. They came to what was evidently a wagon road leading to the woods, and, after taking down the bars of the rail fence, the automobile was driven to the edge of the little patch of woods, being left for the night in a small clearing.
“And now for an old-fashioned camping-out time!” cried Bob, as he leaped from his seat. “We’ll have a fire and everything. I brought a couple of dressed chickens along, and we can broil them over the coals and——”
“Chunky, you’re a lad after my own heart!” cried Jerry. “Forgive all the fun we’ve poked at you.”
“Same here,” echoed Ned.
“Sure!” agreed Bob, good-naturedly. “Now for the fire!”
“I’ll get the wood,” offered Jerry, “and we’ll let you broil the chickens. You can make a better job of it than either Ned or I.”
“Well, I’ll do my best,” and Bob seemed modestly proud of the honor thrust upon him.