Archie's ducking and his long walk in his wet clothes had chilled him completely through, and he was very willing to comply with his cousin's suggestion, and he drew up as close as possible to the fire.
When Frank had finished skinning the squirrels, he stuck them up before the fire, on spits, to roast. The trout he served in the same manner; and, raking out a few live coals from the fire, he placed the coffee-pot upon them, when the work of getting breakfast began in earnest.
In the course of half an hour the impatience of the hungry hunters (whose appetites had been sharpened by the savory smell of the cooking viands) was relieved by Frank's welcome invitation—
"Now, boys, you may help yourselves."
And they did help themselves most bountifully.
Archie kept his place by the fire, and a plate filled with bread and butter, and roasted squirrel and trout, and a cup of coffee, were passed over to him; and, supporting himself on one elbow, he did them ample justice.
The dogs were well supplied with what remained of the breakfast; and, after washing the dishes in the clear water of the brook, and placing them carefully away for future use, the boys seated themselves around the fire, and Harry exclaimed, as he settled himself back into a comfortable position,
"Give us a story, Frank."
"Well," answered Frank, after thinking a few moments, "I remember one that, I think, will interest you. You will probably remember, Archie, that, during the last visit we made at Uncle Joe's, we met his brother Dick, who has passed forty years of his life among the Rocky Mountains. You will remember, also, that he and I went mink-trapping, and camped out all night, and during the evening he related to me some of his adventures, and wound up with the following story of his 'chum,' Bill Lawson. I will try to give it, as nearly as possible, in his own words.