umph!" There was a momentary pause, tense with suspense. A battery of
eyes, eager, expectant, pleading, was turned upon the old man, whose bent
shoulders straightened a bit. "Wal, you can go ahead, then," he agreed
crustily. "But all I can say is--"

A quick exclamation from the scouts drowned the remainder of his words.
"G--e--e!" came hissing from a score of lips in a long sigh of rapture.
It was followed by a bedlam of excited chatter.

"The greatest thing I ever heard!" exploded Ted MacIlvaine,
enthusiastically. "A log-cabin, fellows--think of it! A troop cabin!"
With eyes shining, he stepped suddenly forward and faced the crowd.
"Three cheers for Mr. Grimstone, fellows!" he cried; "and make 'em
good ones!"

When the last echo had died away, a faint touch of pink tinged the old
man's leathery brown skin. But his frown abated nothing of its fierceness
as he turned to the scoutmaster.

"Tut-tut--nonsense!" he grumbled. "I'll leave it to you, then; you'll
be responsible, mind! I s'pose you know what trees to take out--or you
ought to. Nothin' over eight inches, remember, an' not a scrap o' rubbish
left lyin' around when you're done."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned abruptly and stalked off, a
lean, bent, shabby figure with a nose like an eagle's beak and fiercely
beetling brows. To the boys staring after him he was an angel in disguise.

CHAPTER XI

ELKHORN CABIN

All that week the members of Troop Five could talk or think of little
else save the wonderful log-cabin which was to arise like magic on
the shore of Crystal Lake. That, at least, was the way many of them
pictured it as going up, but at the meeting on Monday night Mr. Curtis
gave a little talk in which he pointed out that the undertaking could
only be carried through by a good deal of hard, persistent labor, which
would undoubtedly grow more or less tiresome before the end was reached.

"Saturday is really the only day when we can all get together," he said,
"and there won't be many of them before the snow comes to put a stop
to things. If we mean to enjoy it this winter, we've got to give every
spare minute of our time to the work. There can't be any slowing down or
backing out. Now, if you'd rather wait till spring, when we can take
things more easily--"

"No, _sir_!" came in a swift, united chorus of protest. "We want to start
now. We want to have it this winter."

The scoutmaster smiled a little. "That's the way I feel myself,