a thrill of proud achievement at the result of their united efforts.

CHAPTER XII

A CRY IN THE NIGHT

Very seldom does reality come up to expectation, but this was one of
the rare exceptions. It was the very cabin of their dreams that rose,
a concrete fact, before their admiring gaze. As they stood off surveying
the walls of neatly fitting logs, the sloping roof where a covering of
split saplings concealed the useful, waterproof tar-paper, the square,
workmanlike chimney rising beyond, there was a moment of almost awed
silence, broken presently by Court Parker.

"Some cabin!" he exclaimed, voicing the feeling of them all. "It doesn't
seem as if we could have built that ourselves, fellows."

"We did, though--we and Mr. Curtis and Mr. Grimstone!" jubilated Ted
MacIlvaine. "Gee! Think of its being finished, and think of its being
ours! Come on inside."

They went with a rush and broke into eager loud-voiced admiration of
their handiwork. They tried the bunks, stout frameworks of pine with
lengths of heavy canvas stretched tightly over them, and pronounced
them better than any mattress, clamorously upheld the merit of one piece
of work over another, and discussed the need of a table, chairs, and
various other conveniences. Of course a fire was started, and when the
red blaze roared up the chimney they rejoiced at the perfection of
the draught. Then began a strenuous altercation as to what the cabin
should be called which bade fair to end in a deadlock, owing to the
wide variety of suggestions.

Neither the scoutmaster nor Mr. Grimstone took part in this. The former
believed in letting the boys settle such questions unaided, while the
old man so unaffectedly enjoyed the boys' delight that he simply sat in
the background, silent, but with twinkling eyes. When a lull came in the
dispute, however, he bethought himself of something.

"There's a pair of elk horns down to the barn you boys may as well have,"
he remarked. "You can hang 'em up over the fireplace for an ornament."

"Elk horns!" exclaimed Dale Tompkins. "They'd be dandy! Say!" he went on
eagerly, stirred by sudden inspiration, "what's the matter with that for
a name, fellows--Elkhorn Cabin?"

"Swell!" agreed two or three scouts at once. "That's better than any
we've had. Sounds like the real thing, doesn't it?"

A vote was promptly taken, and though Ranny Phelps and a few others were
against it, the majority approved. The horns, a fine pair of ant