ght,
you'd never think you could have too big a pile of the stuff. Perhaps
some time I'll tell you about that experience; for I'll never forget it,
never. But, Jerry, suppose we get ready to run back to the lumber shack,
and wait there for the wagon? I won't be easy until we see it here. A
little snack first from the grub I've got here, and which Nellie put up
for us, and then we'll meander over the back trail," he said.

"Grub!" exclaimed Bluff, starting up from the soft, mossy cushion he had
fashioned, after doing his little stunt with the ax; "count me in,
please, and especially if your sister put it up, Frank, for I reckon it
must be the boss feed then."

At which the others smiled, for Bluff's weakness regarding Frank's pretty
sister was something of a joke among them.

But when the package was undone there were broad grins, for dainty
sandwiches flanked by a generous assortment of wings and drumsticks,
connected at one time with a number of spring chickens, came into view,
besides some pickles, and even a bunch of cookies, which Frank assured
his chums had been actually made by the fair hands of Nellie herself.

They had hardly known just how hungry they were until the first bite was
taken, and then little was said for some time, on account of the rapidity
with which those four sets of sturdy jaws worked.

But, as might have been expected, Bluff was the first one to reach out
his hand and secure one of the aforesaid cookies, which he munched with
closed eyes, as if mentally picturing the sweet girl from whom the
treat had come.

"All ready for the road, Jerry!" exclaimed Frank, jumping up.

"On deck, captain; I'm with you," came the reply, just as cheerily.

"You fellows keep a good watch, though I don't fancy you'll be
bothered by the three advance scouts of the Lasher brigade," remarked
Frank, as he pushed his machine into position, and prepared to run
with it for a start.

"Huh!" grunted Jerry, casting a side glance toward Bluff, who was
already shifting his repeating shotgun to a position where it could lie
across his knees as he sat there on his mossy hassock; "I bet they
won't, not as long as that thing is in sight. Talk about your
scarecrows, I'd like to wager--"

"To be continued in our next; come along, Jerry," cried Frank, as he
started on.

A minute later the merry popping of the two exhausts told that the convoy
for the "chuck-wagon," as they called it, was on the way.

CHAPTER V