When the odors of supper began to fill the interior of the cabin the
boys discovered that their camp appetites were already beginning to
manifest themselves. They certainly appreciated that first meal in the
open. It brought back to memory many other camps they had enjoyed
together.

And later on while sitting around in front of the blazing fire it was
only natural that the talk should be of those earlier events, which
have been set down in such an interesting way between the covers of
previous volumes of this series.

Having no cots or bunks as yet, they spread their blankets on the hard
floor, and after this crude fashion settled down for the first night.
None of them expected to obtain a good rest, because the first night
out is always a wakeful one on account of strange surroundings. But in
due time all this would wear away and in the end it might even prove
to be a difficult task to arouse some of the heavy sleepers at
sunrise.

After breakfast the next morning all of them set to work. Even Will
was not allowed to begin with his beloved photography until some
semblance of order had been brought about.

They had brought a few tools along with them, Frank resting under the
belief that a hand-saw, a hammer, and some nails would not come in
amiss when they meant to start housekeeping in an old cabin that might
need considerable repairing to make it habitable.

It was this habit of looking ahead possessed by Frank Langdon that so
often made things much easier for himself and his chums than they
might otherwise have been.

So while Frank busied himself at the roof, he had one of the others
mending the door, and the remainder of the party searching for wood
that could be utilized in making their rude bunks along the wall.

It was found that they could take down some boards that were really
not needed, and saw them into the necessary strips required. So during
the entire morning there was more or less hammering and sawing going
on that must have greatly astonished the timid little woods folk
dwelling in that vicinity, so long given over to solitude and quiet.

At noon-time things began to look a little shipshape. To begin with,
the roof had been repaired, and Frank believed it would turn water in
any storm short of a cloud-burst. Then the door also was swinging on
two hinges, one of stout leather, also carried in Frank's pack for an
emergency.

The four bunks were coming along nicely, and the amateur carpenter