Two of the boys were set to work peeling potatoes which were to be fried in the pan. Others made ready the dishes and collected the knives and forks. Mr. Maxwell had several good sized bass he had caught before breakfast, and, what was even better, he had brought along a dozen and a half ears of green corn, two for everyone present. Was it any wonder that the young campers’ eyes sparkled with anticipation as they saw the dinner being prepared?
Their appetites were keen as only those in the woods can understand. The fragrant odor of sizzling bacon and roasting corn coming to their nostrils only served to increase their eagerness.
“Isn’t this great?” cried George enthusiastically, when at last dinner was announced as ready and the pleasant task of disposing of it had begun. “If anything can beat this, I’d like to know what it is.”
“There is nothing that can tie it even,” laughed Mr. Maxwell, who seemed to be enjoying himself as much as any of the boys.
“I only hope Pop won’t eat so much, he’ll sink the Balsam,” said Fred doubtfully. “We have plenty of ballast aboard as it is.”
“You ‘tend to your own dinner,” advised George very promptly. “I’m too busy to waste any time talking to you now.”
At last the meal was over, and every one had had sufficient to eat.
“All ready to start the race?” inquired Mr. Maxwell.
“Oh,” groaned Franklin, “I don’t feel as if I could move. I’d rather crawl off somewhere and go to sleep. I guess I ate too much.”
“I know I did,” laughed John.