"Yes, I'm on deck, all right; what is it?" replied the tall boy, close by.
"You fixed some stuff for starting a fire in a hurry, didn't you?" continued Jack.
"Sure I did; and it's right here beside me," Josh hastened to reply.
"Then strike a match, and let's have some light. We'll look this coon over, and see whether we want to take him down to Franklin City with us tomorrow, or give him some grub and let him go scot free."
Jack was looked upon as a leader by his chums, and when he received these instructions Josh never hesitated a second about starting to carry them out to the letter.
Scratch went his match, which he always kept handy, being the recognized chef of the expedition. Then the light wood flamed up, communicated with other stuff, and in a "jiffy," as Josh called it, the scene was illuminated.
Meanwhile Jack had climbed out from among the folds of his blanket, always keeping his shotgun leveled in the direction of the crouching figure of the detected marauder of their stores.
He found a badly frightened negro, rather a young fellow, and as black as tar. The whites of his eyes looked staring as he followed the movements of that threatening gun, every time Jack moved.
"Come, get up here, and step nearer the fire," said Jack. "When we have company we always like to entertain them in proper style. Now, sit down here, and give an account of yourself. What's your name, to start with?"
George had come tumbling out of the depths of the Wireless, aroused by the sound of voices, although Jack had not been talking in an excited way. Herb, Jimmy and Josh were all on hand, with blankets wrapped about them; for the night air was a bit keen, and they had on only their underclothing and pajamas.