“Just what I said several times,” Steve asserted, “and I’d have been tickled half to death at the chance; but then I don’t believe Jack would have fired, even if we had the gun along. You see, it would have told anybody within a mile of the spot how we were poking around, and that’s something against his plans.”
They both looked yearningly toward Jack, but he only smiled, and made no remark, upon which Steve sighed, and shook his head as if to confess that it was no use trying to tempt their leader to anticipate his promised disclosure by even an hour.
By degrees everything was told, even to some of the remarkable sights that they had run across during their tramp. Steve spoke of the enormous tree alongside of which he had stood while Jack snapped off a picture, so as to show by comparison just what a magnificent old forest monarch the mighty oak was.
An hour passed, and they were enjoying every minute of the time. It felt so good to be back in camp again. Those among my boy readers who have ever been through a similar experience can easily understand the sensation of solid comfort that took possession of Steve as he lolled there, filled to the limit with supper, and enjoying the crackling fire in a way words could never describe.
82Jack seemed to have recovered from his fatigue, for he was busying himself in some sort of way. Steve, too well satisfied with his position even to move, watched him for some time, while Toby, like the good fellow he was, wrestled with the pots and pans and pannikins that had been soiled with getting supper.
“Would you mind telling me, Jack, what in the wide world you’re doing with all that dark-colored cord, and those tin pans in the bargain?” Steve finally burst out with, unable to restrain his bubbling curiosity longer.
“I’m trying to save our bacon, that’s all,” replied the other calmly; but this explanation only increased the mystery; so far as Steve was concerned.
“I reckon I’m particularly stupid tonight, because I’m tired, Jack,” he went on to say, desperately; “but, honest now, I don’t get the hang of it at all. What do you mean by saving our bacon? Does that apply to our fine pork products in the wagon yonder; or are you hinting that perhaps our lives are in danger, and you’re fixing up a game to keep us from going under?”
Jack chuckled as he explained further.
“I’ve got our provisions in mind when I designate them all under the general name of bacon, you understand, Steve.”