“Fudge,” Ormand cried. “We are going out for pleasure, not to see how much work we can do. That would be a freshman trick.”
Greenleaf, overruled but entirely unabashed, proceeded with the list. “Eight pounds of bacon, two of oatmeal; two of sugar; six pints of condensed milk; two quarts of beans.”
“Eight cans,” Morgan corrected, “but it would be great fun to have a bean hole if you would run ahead—half a day to start the fire.”
“Right you are,” Greenleaf conceded. “I forgot that we did not have a cook and a pack mule. Two pounds of butter, one of salt, a quarter-pound of tea. How is that for grub? Oh, yes, twelve loaves of bread for Morgan to tote.”
“Yes,” Morgan said, “I’d rather tote it any day than try to eat your biscuits. Add two pounds of pancake flour and a can of syrup.”
“How about lard?” Scott ventured.
“Don’t need it when you have the bacon,” Ormand objected, “but you’d better add two pounds of cheese and a box of matches. Yes, and you’d better take one can of tomatoes, so we can have the can for a lantern.”
“Now for the dishes,” Greenleaf said. “One frying pan; one teakettle; four tin cups; four spoons; two canteens.”
“One tomahawk,” Ormand added.
“Do you call that a dish?” Greenleaf jeered. “One pair of blankets apiece will be enough for us, and Morgan’s dog tent will complete the outfit.”