“Hurray!” shouted Biff. “We won’t starve after all.”
“You forgot to unpack it, did you?” said Frank pointedly. “I’ll bet you didn’t forget. You just cached that grub away in case you might get hungry some time during the night.”
“Now what good would a can of sardines do me in the middle of the night?” asked Chet.
“I know you. Never knew of you taking any chances on running out of food yet,” Frank told him. “Well, this time it worked out all right. We’ll help you get rid of your little supper, Chet.”
“There isn’t very much.”
“Enough to keep us from starving, at any rate.”
Soon, with a blazing fire casting a glow through the cabin, with the lamps lighted and with the table spread, the lads felt more cheerful. The meal was not at all what they had anticipated as a conclusion to their day, but their appetites were too keen to admit of any fault-finding.
“I suppose this means we go without breakfast,” groaned Chet, as soon as he had finished the last sardine.
“That’s right! Start worrying about breakfast the moment you’ve finished your supper,” said Biff. “I never saw such a hungry wolf in all my life.”
“I’m not hungry now, but I’ll be hungry in the morning.”