“Yes. I left ‘feetprints’ in the river when the log rolled me off. Did you ever observe how wonderfully prominent ‘feetprints’ in the water are, Elfreda?”
Elfreda gave her head a toss and walked to the cabin. It was a typical forest shack. There was a plain deal table, two chairs, a bed on the floor and blankets hung over a line. The dishes were limited, but sufficient for one or two persons. She investigated an opening in the floor, from which Stacy had lifted the trap door, and found there a good supply of canned goods, some rope, axes, picks and shovels.
“A forest ranger’s shack,” she murmured. “Yes, I think that must be it.” Elfreda helped herself to a can of beans, surveyed it ruefully and carried it outside.
“Have you the can-opener, Stacy?” she asked.
Stacy shook his head.
“How did you open your cans then?” Several empty cans lay about the stump on which he was sitting.
“With my teeth. Bit ’em open!” said the fat boy thickly.
“Stacy Brown, you are impossible! I think I know a better way.” Elfreda got an axe from the shack and attacked the can of beans. She made a bad job of it, and most of the beans that were not mashed flat were scattered about on the ground. These, the fat boy gathered up carefully and placed in his own can.
“Get another can. I’m busy, but I will open it for you. Girls are so helpless.”
“I am beginning to agree with you,” answered Miss Briggs, returning to the cabin for another can. When she came back Stacy removed the top of the can with his knife, and handed the food to her.