Then they told him how Mrs. Tyler Gleason, whose good friendship they had won out on the farm the year before, sent the chicken, all nicely roasted, expressly for the expedition. All four lads had been at the farm and at the "Retreat" in the ravine on Sunday afternoon and in confidence told Mr. and Mrs. Gleason of their plan to start their journey on Monday. The unexpected but very welcome contribution to their stock of provisions arrived but an hour before the car was loaded. Phil being so busily engaged in putting the blinders over the eyes of the too-confident Trio, had not, of course, known of the gift. The others saved the fowl for supper purposely to surprise him.
"Nothing to do but warm it up, and way off here on the edge of nowhere, we have as fine a roast chicken as ever came down the pike," quoth Billy Worth. And although it must be admitted that any roast chicken pursuing its way upon the pike, or any other roadway, would be nothing short of extraordinary, the fact remains that Mrs. Gleason's offering was all that could be desired.
Always master of ceremonies in such matters, Billy did the carving and a good-sized thimble would have contained all that remained of the roast fowl, apart from the dismembered skeleton, when supper was over. The best way to pick a bone really right up to the last shred, inclusive, never was with knife and fork, anyway.
Ample quantities of coffee, bread and butter and the other good things the regular store of the cheese-box larder afforded, made the entire supper so successful that, on the whole, the boys contemplated their situation with no serious misgivings as they gathered about the campfire. The croaking of the frogs in the broad expanse of swamp and marsh land to the east, the profound quiet, and intense darkness in the woods on either side, the flickering lights and shadows of the blaze before them, were well calculated to inspire dread and apprehension if not downright fear; but so used to depending upon themselves—so self-reliant, therefore, were these four friends that the thought of being fearful or allowing themselves to be uncomfortable on account of their lonely surroundings, lost though they practically were, did not occur to one of them. So much, then, for the worth of a clear conscience and the habit of self-confidence.
And again, notwithstanding their somber surroundings and the annoying lack of knowledge as to their precise whereabouts, the four friends were by no means without equipment to make themselves quite comfortable. Long winter evening discussions, plans and preparations had not been for nothing. Even to rubber-covered sleeping bags which, just as an experiment, perhaps, would have made a pouring rain something to be invited rather than feared, the camp and touring outfit was complete. Just for one night it was not worth while to put up the tent or to unpack a large part of the car's load, but blankets to spread upon the ground, others for covering, and a tarpaulin for the car, were all within easy reach.
Drowsiness came early, under the influence of the fire's genial warmth and in the midst of Paul's voluble discourse on the probable extent of time lost, due to losing the road, the other boys drew their blankets over them and with a laugh bade him good-night. There being "nothing else for P. Jones, Esquire, to do," as he himself expressed it, he, also "sought the arms of Morpherus Nodinski."
Again quoting the words of "P. Jones, Esquire," it must be "that frogs sleep all day, for how else can they stay up to holler all night?" Certainly there was little diminishing of the weird clamor from the marshes as the night advanced. All else was still as death. Not even an owl disturbed the forest's dark solitude.
And the Auto Boys slept on. The greater part of the night had passed, but no glimmer of dawn had yet appeared when there came suddenly like a wail of dire distress, louder far than the frogs' deep croaking, a long drawn-out cry—"Help!" And again and yet again, "Help! Help!"
Dave was the first awakened. The second call completely roused him and he had the whole camp astir in another five seconds. Once more, and thrice repeated, came the wailing, drawn-out cry.