“Oh, well,” Alex considered, “we’ll all have this one in the club room we’re going to fit up in Chicago this winter.”
“Now, about supper,” Case began, as they all assembled on the deck again. “How are we going to cook supper on this tipsy old boat?”
“We can build a big fire on shore,” suggested Clay.
This was finally agreed to, and a roaring fire soon shot up in the tangle on the north bank of the creek. There supper was cooked and eaten, and then thoughts of sleep came to the tired boys.
“I think we’ve done wrong in building this fire,” Clay said. “We might just as well have sent up rockets telling our enemies where we are.”
“I don’t believe there’s any one within forty miles of us,” Alex put in, optimistically.
“What about the signals burned on the rock up stream?” asked Clay.
“Oh, that was a long way off. We’d better be thinking of how we’re going to pull this boat around the rapids than worrying over people hidden in the bushes, watching Case eat more than is good for him. He’s a wonderful hand at table,” he added, as Case threw a potato at his head. “But, then,” he added, in a conciliatory tone, “I’m something of an eater myself.”
“Who’s going to watch to-night?” asked Case, presently. “Some one ought to. I don’t think we ought to take chances, here on the shore. There may be more bears in the woods.”
It was finally arranged that Case should watch until midnight, and that Alex should relieve him then. Somehow, there was an uneasy feeling in the air.