In every camp there is a cookee, as the helper to the cook is universally called. His duty is to peel potatoes, wash dishes, wait on the table—rather set the tables than wait, for everything is piled on at the beginning of the meal, and the only helping that is done is when a dish has to be re-filled.
The cookee was a surly looking chap of about twenty-one years of age. He was slight of build and had violent red hair. He just mumbled a word or two when he was introduced, and went on with his work, which was slicing bread for the dinner hour that was near at hand. Garry and his friends mentally put him down as one that might bear watching as soon as they had located themselves.
While the manager was asking the cook about borrowing a couple of the axes that were stacked in the corner, a black-browed chap came to the door and asked for a pail of water to take out to where several of the men were trimming trees. The cookee brought the water and stepped outside with the man. Garry and Phil were talking with the manager and the cook, but Phil happened to be standing near the door.
He heard the sound of talking in the French language and strained his ears to catch what was being said. Phil was not eavesdropping because of a natural desire to do so; it was merely that he was on the watch every moment for a possible clue that would lead them to the solution that they were in quest of,—the riddle of the mishaps at the lumber camp.
What Phil heard was this:
“Baptiste will be at the usual place at midnight tonight.”
Phil determined then and there that he would be at the rendezvous, wherever it was, and hear what transpired. He could hardly wait to get the others with him so that he could impart to them the information that he had just overheard.
He hoped that something else would be said, but at this moment the cook called for his helper, who came hustling back into the shanty, and went about preparing for the serving of the dinner.
Phil went back to join his chums just in time to hear the manager say:
“Unless you boys want the fun of throwing up a log house, I would suggest a much easier and quicker way. You can cut enough poles for the supports of the house, and then I’ll have some sawed boards brought to the spot. Also there is some tarred paper here that was brought here when the camp started just for such an emergency. That would mean that you could be all located before nightfall. As for heat, I have a Sibley stove, one of those small ones such as they use in army camps for tents, that will do very well. It isn’t likely that you will want it often, for we are in the hottest part of the summer, and only on a cold, wet night will you require heat. You won’t be here such a long time, I presume, and we are in for a spell of good weather according to the cook here, who is the camp weather prophet.”