“Then let’s meet to-night at my house,” Billy hastened to add, “when we can settle the preliminaries, as they say when a match is being arranged. Just now you see my untamed steed is getting restless; wants his oats, I reckon. Call it seven, Gus, and don’t you dare fail us after getting a fellow so excited.”
Possibly it was Peter’s hungry master who was growing anxious to satisfy a voracious appetite, for Billy’s weakness was well known among his chums, and caused no end of merriment, though he took all the fun poked at him in good part.
At seven that same evening when Hugh, walking along in the light of the almost full moon, reached Billy Worth’s home, he found that both Arthur and Gus had already arrived.
Billy, like most boys, had been allowed a “den” of his own, which was quite tastefully fitted up with books and pictures of an exciting though wholesome character. Athletic and other outdoor sports were represented by various things like football guards for nose and shins; a baseball catcher’s mask, gloves and breast pad; snowshoes that had evidently seen considerable service, a fly-rod, a stuffed black bass weighing some five pounds, which must have given the fisherman a lordly struggle before consenting to capture, and other articles too numerous to mention.
Billy’s den was a favorite lounging place for many of his mates. Here the three guests were told to make themselves at home, and each hastened to ensconce himself in a favorite chair or nook, the comforts of which seemed to be quite familiar to the occupant from previous visits there.
“It’s understood, then,” said Gus, after they had been chatting for some time, and, of course, were discussing what they ought to take along with them, “that we start about eight o’clock Wednesday morning next, come rain, come shine.”
“Huh! the weather doesn’t stop a scout when he’s got his mind made up,” ventured Billy, with an expanded chest that bespoke pride. “What would a little snowstorm or even a baby blizzard mean to such veterans as our crowd? If the heavens don’t drop, Gus, or one of us falls sick meanwhile, you can count on our being with you on the date set.”
“One thing I’m going to ask of you, boys, as a great favor,” remarked Gus, with a queer look on his face that interested the observing Hugh considerably.
“As what?” demanded Billy. “Though for that matter, Gus, count it as settled before you speak, that we’ll agree to anything you ask. We’re going to be your guests up there at the old logging camp, you know, and we understand what that means.”
“Oh! it’s only this,” continued the other, hesitatingly. “I’m going to ask you not to tell any of the fellows just where we expect to camp. I’ve got a reason for that request, and later on you’re going to know all about it, too. Just now I don’t want my father to know where we’re headed, though mother is sending me up there, you understand.”