“Want to build a fire and toast some of these marshmallows?” Bob proposed as he glanced at the food.
“Sure thing,” Jim agreed readily. He got busy and cleared a rock while Bob gathered some bits of wood. In a few minutes they had the blaze crackling cheerily, and then they prepared to enjoy themselves thoroughly. Mrs. Fenton had put in almost a loaf of home made bread and butter sandwiches, a glass of plum jelly, six deviled eggs, slices of roast ham, olives, pickles, ginger cookies, milk, chocolate cake and candy.
“If we eat all this Her Highness will never be able to take us up,” Bob grinned broadly as the things were set forth on the huge napkin.
“Intend to eat sparingly?” Jim inquired.
“Not so that you could notice it,” Bob assured him. “When I come to think of it, I don’t know where you’re going to get any. I am hollow in both legs.”
“I know what I’m going to do,” Jim retorted promptly. “Pitch right in and if you get more than a toe full, you’ll be lucky.” With that threat, they fell to and ate with keen appetites, and when Bob finally stretched himself out on the rock with a huge sigh of contentment, the food was almost all gone.
“Gosh, I feel great.”
“I’m right with you, Buddy,” Jim answered. He lay on his tummy and for a few minutes they watched the tiny coil of smoke that rose in a wavering line from the fire, which was burning low. Austin did manage to throw on a few more sticks, that caught quickly, and crackled at a lively rate.
“Wonder what Bradshaw and his gang have been doing while we tanked up,” Bob remarked. “Wish we could have been in on the scrap.”
“Wish we could, but we might have been in the way. If we had hung around that ravine waiting for the fireworks, the chaps who were parked there might have been warned and that would have spoiled the show,” Jim replied.