"I'll say we are," declared Chet. "Might as well make the best of it."
"How about eating?" demanded Jerry.
"You'll find tea and bread and bacon in the cupboard," said Jadbury Wilson. "I'm feelin' sort of hungry myself."
The boys rummaged about in the cupboard, which was undamaged, and found provisions. The water had been spilled, but Frank melted some snow on the stove and after a while had the kettle boiling. The fragrant smell of frying bacon pervaded the cabin and in due time supper was served, all doing full justice to the meal. Afterward, they washed the dishes and set about making themselves comfortable for the night.
Jadbury Wilson possessed but the one narrow cot, so the boys saw they would be obliged to sleep on the floor of the cabin. However, the old man had plenty of blankets, and it was decided to have each lad stand watch for two hours in order to keep the fire going. In spite of the fact that the bitter wind swept through chinks and crannies in the cabin walls, the place was comfortably warm, the fire radiating a good heat in the confined space.
Jadbury Wilson was disconsolate.
"Troubles never seem to come one at a time," he groaned, lying on the cot. "This is the finishin' touch."
"Have you been having bad luck, Mr. Wilson?" asked Frank, sympathetically.
"I've had nothin' but bad luck for more'n a year past now. This is the worst blow yet. I'll never be able to put this house back on the cliff again."
"Oh, perhaps it isn't as bad as that," said Joe cheerfully. "You might have been badly hurt. There's that to be thankful for."