off on the spur of the moment.

Over the proof that showed the strange ledge of rock under which the
two storm-bound fugitives had passed the night, Bluff and Jerry
lingered longest. There seemed to be some peculiar fascination about
the picture that held their attention.

"Some time soon, Frank," said Bluff, "we must go up there and take a
look into that cave under the rock. It was a bright dodge on your part
to notice the formation of the ground in passing, and then remember it
right away when the necessity arose for shelter from the rain, wind
and lightning."

"Which only shows," remarked Will, shaking a warning finger at Bluff,
"that you ought to keep your eyes about you every minute of time when
you're tramping through a woodsy country. You never know the second
you'll be called on to remember something. And also let me say that
it's best to have along with you a chum who never gets left, no matter
what happens."

Even Frank had to join in the general laugh that greeted this wise
sally.

"My advice to you all is, never depend on anybody else to pull your
chestnuts out of the fire, but learn to do things for yourself," was
all the remark Frank would allow himself to make.

They had fresh fish for supper that evening, and such fish! Bluff
himself cooked them, and of late he had proven himself to be a most
excellent hand at getting up a meal.

His method, of course, was the usual camp way of using fat salt pork
melted down in the pan until it was sizzling hot; then placing in the
fish, nicely covered with cracker crumbs, and allowing the fish to
become browned all over, as well as fairly crisp before pronouncing
them done.

Every one enjoyed them, and it was voted unanimously that fish should
form one of the staple dishes of their stay in camp at Cabin Point.

Judging from the game qualities of the bass, there would be no lack of
candidates for the honor of pulling them in. Even Will, who did not as
a rule profess to be much of a sportsman, declared he believed he
would like to test that new "pole" which his father had given him for
Christmas; at which Bluff groaned, and immediately threw up his hands
in affected horror, exclaiming:

"Pole! For goodness' sake, Will, never call that dandy lancewood rod
by such a degrading name again. The farmer's boy cuts a pole from the
bushes, or buys a fifteen-foot one at the grocery store, the kind that
comes up from the Louisiana swamp districts. A true sportsman carr