“We might leave the door open. Anyhow, let’s see.”
So they stuffed the old stove full of paper, added a few pieces of wood which they found, and touched it off. It was smoky, there was no doubt about that, but it looked cheerful, and after a minute or two even gave some warmth. The rain drove in through the door at times, and prevented the smoke from going out, but save that it occasioned an epidemic of coughing, the fire was quite a success.
“Let’s see if we can’t get some of that wood from the bunks,” suggested Nelson.
It was hard work until Dan thought of the broken pick. He showed that a pick may be used as an ax when occasion demands, and soon they had quite a respectable pile of firewood by the stove. Bob borrowed the implement, and tore off the boarding from the window, thus supplying more fuel, and creating a cross draught that cleared a good deal of the smoke out. By this time the stove was getting red hot, and they stood around it, having thrown aside their ponchos, and steamed and regained their good humor.
“Say, Nel,” asked Dan, “what does this remind you of?”
“Turkish bath,” answered Nelson.
“No, but do you remember the hut in the woods at Chicora last summer? This rain’s a dead ringer for that one, except that there isn’t any thunder and lightning.”
“Don’t suggest it,” warned Bob.
“Yes, and do you remember how scared you were at that skeleton?” laughed Nelson.