Harry lifted the bird by the neck and drew it nearer to the flame.
“This eagle,” he said with a grin, “is about the deadest thing I ever saw. In fact,” he went on, “he is fully as dead as the eagle on a counterfeit dollar!”
“Where did you get it?” asked Gilroy.
“I fought for it,” answered Ned.
“I know what’s the matter with Ned,” Harry exclaimed. “He hasn’t had anything to eat since noon, and he’s hungry. Never try to talk to a Boy Scout when he’s hungry,” he continued, “if you do, you’ll get saucy answers.”
“I’m hungry myself!” Gilroy declared.
“Well,” Harry answered. “You can get supper any old time you want to. I’d be glad to serve as chef tonight if it wasn’t for this bum old arm. I could do a pretty good job cooking with one hand, only I’m just a little bit weak yet.”
Gilroy at once accepted the invitation and began preparations for supper, going about the work awkwardly.
“What are you going to have for supper?” he asked after a survey of the provision shelves.
“Bear stew!” laughed Harry, well knowing the fat clerk’s abhorrence of bear flesh. “We’re all going to eat bear stew. But you can have a broiled rattlesnake if you care to go and catch one.”