The man laughed with a gurgle in his throat. “Sure,” he answered, “but only for a couple of minutes. I have a shack a couple of miles yonder,” and he pointed in the general westerly direction. He joined the circle of boys around the fire. “What are you fellows doing here?” he asked.
Paul answered for all of them. “We’re seven Boy Scouts,” he said, “and we’re camping here for a week.”
“A week!” he exclaimed. He mused and stroked his chin. “Where are you boys from?” he inquired further.
“Stanhope,” he was told.
“Stanhope! I go down there about once every two weeks for supplies. But why do you boys camp here? I can tell you of a far better place to camp.”
“Where?” one of the boys asked him.
“About three miles northwest of here,” he answered.
They all guessed at once that he was referring to their old camping site. A couple of the boys were on the verge of telling him that they knew all about the place. But Jack spoke up first and asked, “What sort of a place is it?”
“Oh, it’s a very good camp site,” he answered. “There is a large clearing where you can play ball or any other game, and a large stream where you can go fishing and swimming.” he paused, glanced from one boy to another, then added, “Oh, it’s a far better camping site than this.”