In the two log cabins, the beds were plain box bunks arranged in a double tier down the sides, each containing a tick stuffed with straw. Red blankets, sheets, and a thin pillow filled with aromatic fir balsam completed the equipment. Of course each boy was expected to look after the airing and making of his own bed.
Accordingly, when the bugle sounded before sunrise next morning, all was hustle and activity at the camp, in strange contrast with the quiet lake and the majestic calm of the mountains.
Hardly had the notes of the bugle call died away in impressive silence, when new echoes were aroused to sudden life by the lusty shouts and calls of forty boys, who, being thus musically wakened from the profound sleep of healthy and vigorous youth, sprang from their bunks and bestirred themselves about their morning duties.
It seemed to Alec, however, that he had slept scarcely an hour. He felt tired and out-of-sorts with himself and everybody else, quite devoid of any zest for the events which the day might bring forth. Wearily he rose, partly dressed, and went outside the cabin, where, upon a bench, stood a row of aluminum washbasins, each with a towel, soap, and brush and comb to bear it company. While he and Dick Bellamy performed their ablutions, envying those who were going down to the lake for a swim, Alec “pumped” his comrade with leading questions, in an effort to find out whether Dick knew anything about the fire. To his satisfaction, Dick appeared wholly unaware that any accident to the mess-cabin had occurred.
Dick was jubilant that morning, because it was the last morning of his week of police duty. After this day he would be free to follow his own devices and in various ways build up his record for election to the signal corps.
“Fine day, Alec,” he remarked genially.
“Yes—for ducks!” retorted Alec, glancing up at the sun which now shone ominously red through a veil of low, swiftly-moving clouds. “Looks like rain,” he added, in explanation.
“For fish, too,” said Bellamy. “You know they always bite better a morning like this. I hope to get some big ones to-day.”
“Speaking of fish,” began Alec, “we’re going to have some broiled trout for breakfast this morning, some that you and Don caught yesterday.”
“Broiled——! Oh, Alec, what time is it now?”