“Thinking of his bread-basket as usual,” grinned McBride. “It would do you good, Rit, to go without supper for once. You need thinning down.”
“I’m thin enough to suit me,” sniffed the fat chap. He cocked a troubled eye at the cold, gray clouds which hung low above the narrow country road. “Besides, it’s going to rain or snow before long,” he added with a shiver.
McBride laughed carelessly. “We should worry and get a wrinkle! A little wet won’t hurt any of us. I move we keep going for a while longer, anyhow. We’ve had rotten luck this afternoon. If we don’t look out Marshall’s bunch will get ahead.”
In this final clean-up for locating trees not previously reported for the census of black walnuts requested by the Government, Mr. Wendell had hit upon the expedient of dividing the troop into miscellaneous groups of four and offering a prize to the group reporting the greatest number. The emulation and friendly rivalry aroused had produced fine results. So far Jim Cavanaugh’s group was ahead, but the scouts under Clay Marshall’s leadership had lately been creeping up. At McBride’s remark, Ritter sniffed scornfully.
“What can you expect?” he complained in an aggrieved tone. “Walnuts don’t grow in a wild country like this. They’re always around farms or on main roads. It was a dirty trick of Mr. Wendell to make us come way over here. Where’d Marshall’s bunch go?”
“Over around Benson’s Hill,” answered Cavanaugh, his gaze wandering keenly over the gaunt, bare tree tops of the surrounding woods.
“Right near the cabin!” exclaimed Ritter enviously. “I’ll bet they’ve gone in there and built a fire and are having a dandy time.”
“Well, then they can’t be finding walnuts and beating our record,” retorted Micky. “There’s one thing anyhow, fellows. When this last clean-up is over, I’ll bet nobody’ll be able to find a black walnut tree with a fine tooth comb around this country. We’ve located a raft of ’em since we started last summer.” He sighed, and his mind reverted to another subject. “Gee! The cabin certainly looks swell with all that new stuff in it. When are we going to have that house-warming Cavvy?”
Cavanaugh turned abruptly and stared blankly at his friend. “Say! I clean forgot to tell you something. Did you hear about Jack Farren?”
“No! What?”