"What's the prospect for the day, fellows?" Steve asked in a loud voice, as he sat up, after throwing aside his blanket.
It was morning, though the sun had not yet shown up. Three other heads appeared in view instantly, for the sleepers had been satisfied to cuddle in their warm coverings, on account of the chill of the night, which must have gradually crept into the tent around the early hours.
"Looks to me as though it hadn't rained much after all," Bandy-legs announced.
"T-t-things a little w-w-wet out there," remarked Toby, who had hastened to thrust his head part way through the opening near which he lay; "but it's all r-r-right, fellows, because I c'n see b-b-blue s-s-sky overhead."
They were soon dressed, and ready to begin the business of the day. The camp fire was not hard to start, thanks to their wisdom in procuring plenty of dry fuel when they had the chance; and breakfast began to send out appetizing odors that excited their appetites—though that was hardly necessary, since normal boys are always in condition to do their share of eating.
As usual they talked of various things while they sat around, each in his favorite attitude, disposing of the meal.
Bandy-legs seemed to have something on his mind, which he took this opportunity for venting, for when a little lull occurred in the conversation he turned to Max, and went on to say:
"After all we forgot something yesterday, Max."
"That so, Bandy-legs? Well, I hope it wasn't such a big thing that it'll upset any of our plans."
"T-t-tell us what?" Toby ventured, as well as he could, considering how full his mouth was of food.