"That's the idea," approved Dave. "It's too late, now, to go over and see those fellows across the lake. Besides, I'm half frozen."
When the party reached the huts, they found everything as it had been left.
"You fellows had better grub with us to-night," said Nat Wingate, addressing Sladder and Musgrove. "How will that do?"
"Bully!" replied the two in unison.
The canopy of cloud still hung over the landscape, and strong gusts of wind made the biting cold seem all the more intense.
"Wow! This is the worst yet," growled Dave. "Wouldn't care to have stayed out on the lake any longer."
"It will get a great deal wuss than this," put in Tim Sladder, cheerfully, "but I don't keer as long as there ain't no blizzard."
"Suppose one will be due pretty soon, eh?" remarked Sam Randall, with a critical glance at the lowering sky. "Bother the wind! Listen to it howling among those trees."
Between dancing, swinging their arms and crowding around the blazing fire, the boys managed to keep fairly comfortable.
Twilight began to blot out the distance and, at length, night enveloped the scene—a sullen, gloomy night—one of the blackest they had ever seen. The towering flames threw a wider circle of light than usual, and the near-by trees stood out weirdly against the background.