As they ate their breakfast of fried ham and eggs, the latter the gift of their grateful farmer friend, the scouts planned all sorts of diversions for that particular day. One wanted to do this thing, and another had his favorite scheme on his mind, which he was only waiting for a chance to try out.
Hugh always tried to suit the caprice of the boys when arranging plans for the day. It was most unwise to stick a round peg in a square hole, he figured. The fellow who was making a hobby of learning all about animal tracks and habits would be wasting his time with a camera trying to snap off scenery; or making a bungle of tying up the broken wing of an injured crow he had managed to catch.
“Every one to his taste,” was Hugh’s motto; and by adhering to this plan whenever practicable he managed not only to satisfy the boys but accomplish much better results than if he had persisted in crossing their wishes.
As for himself, Hugh had so many “hobbies” that he was ready and willing to join any group in carrying out their plans, for it was likely that in so doing he would be pleasing himself in the bargain.
All arrangements had been made for sharing the onerous duties of cook. Some of the boys were so much better at this than others, that an agreement was effected whereby those who did more than their share in preparing the meals, should escape wood-chopping and such hard labor.
Needless to say, Billy Worth gladly took upon his shoulders the task of relieving two other fellows at this cooking game; for he loved to be where he could make sure that there would be enough of a supply for everybody, because Billy hated a short allowance above all things. Then again it gave him something of a lofty position, since the cook was the “king of the camp” while at his labors.
He had set his scullions to work cleaning up the breakfast things, and was feeling quite important, Hugh noticed, as he bustled about, having donned the round little white cap that had been brought along in a spirit of humor to distinguish the Great Mogul who would be the officer of the day.
None of them had, however, started out on their several errands when Ralph Kenyon was seen to step up on a log, and shading his eyes with a hand, look earnestly off in a direction that might be called “up” the road.
“What did you think you saw, Ralph?” asked Billy, noticing the other. “I hope it turns out to be our friend the egg-man coming with a fresh supply.”
“Hugh, come here and take a look,” said Ralph, in a strained voice; “there’s something queer about that crowd, seems to me!”