"Mighty sorry I can't go along," said Spouter dolefully. "However, I wish you all the best of luck, not only in getting some information about those Germans, but also in locating the foxes."
"And you can depend on me taking good care of Dick," said Henry Stowell.
"All right, Henry," answered Gif; for he and all of the others had been told how Codfish hated his nickname, and they had decided to do what they could toward dropping it, although, as Andy had remarked, "It might be pretty hard to stop calling a donkey a donkey all the time."
"We'll give the little sneak a chance to turn over a new leaf," was what Jack had said in return. "I don't believe Codfish is bad at heart—he's only been traveling in the wrong company."
It was a fair day with the sun coming up clearly over the treetops. It was still intensely cold, but there was little or no wind, for which the lads were thankful.
"I suppose you have thinned out the game a good deal right around this Lodge," remarked Jed Wallop. "You know rabbits and squirrels don't like to hear the bangin' of a gun. They know mighty well it spells trouble fer 'em."
A mile was covered before they sighted anything that looked like game. Then a big fat rabbit ran directly across their path. To give the boys a chance, Jed Wallop did not fire, and as a consequence the bunny got away, none of the cadets being quick enough to get a shot at it.
"You've got to have your eyes open if you want to lay low all the game in these woods," chuckled the old hunter.
"He was too close to us," grumbled Gif. "Why, he was out of sight before I could think of raising my gun!"
"You mustn't think, Gif. Jest fire and let it go at that," and Jed Wallop grinned broadly. He was a man who loved company, and he thought it great sport to be out in the woods with the cadets.