“Who’s mad?” sneered Tom.
“You mustn’t mind Teddy Banes,” said Sergeant Erskine. “He generally speaks his mind pretty freely. So you steered your way here by the aid of maps and a compass, eh?”
“But it was only by good luck that we managed to hit it right,” remarked Dave, modestly.
“Our field-glass helped some, too,” supplemented Bob. “You see, we reached the summit of a hill—it was a mighty long way from here, too; but the instrument obligingly picked out these lights.”
“So we guessed they must come from either a ranch-house or a barracks,” finished Tom.
“An’ it wasn’t any easy job to keep steerin’ in the right direction,” interposed Larry Burnham. “We got mixed up so often that I began to think we were in for another little snooze under the stars.”
“Well, boys, you’re all right,” said Erskine, heartily. “I can see that your outdoor life has made you self-reliant, anyway. There’s plenty of room for you over in the men’s quarters, so I invite the crowd to stay.”
“An’ I sort o’ think we’ll accept,” drawled Larry. “Outdoor life may make a chap self-reliant, but it can also give him a confounded lot of aches an’ pains.”
“Humph!” sniffed Tom, “you’re not seasoned yet.”
“I’m seasoned enough to get pretty hot at times,” growled Larry.