All of them were soon busily engaged in fixing up the camp. Since they
had thought it best not to try and fetch a heavy tent along with them
they knew it would be necessary to construct some such brush shanty
shelter every night unless they could find a convenient ledge under
which a camp could be made. But all of these boys had often slept under
the stars, with the heavens for a canopy overhead, so that they did not
feel at all worried over the circumstance.

As the sun sank lower and lower toward the horizon the camp began to
assume a comfortable air. The brush shelter had been finished, and
pronounced equal to any they had ever built before. It might not prove
wholly rain-proof, but as for keeping off the dew, and protecting them
against the chilly night air, it offered them "all the comforts of
home," as Steve put it.

Then supper was started, a fire having been built after the most
approved method in vogue among guides and hunters of long experience.
Indeed, Max and his companions were far from being green to the ways of
the woods. They had learned heaps through their many camping
experiences; and some time before a visit to an old trapper had
initiated them into dozens of secrets of the craft that would never be
forgotten.[1]

Again the talk was of the strange mission that had brought them up to
the Adirondacks. Bandy-legs could not seem to get over his belief that
they were bound to have all their trouble for their pains.

"What sort of a clue have we got to work on for a starter, fellows, tell
me?" he went on to say, just as they were starting in to enjoy the