"It will taste like it, too," predicted Reade. "Come on, now!"

Potatoes were quickly made ready. Tom began to chop the mixture,
while Prescott got out one of the frying pans.

"Get out the lard," urged Tom. "Let's have some of this stuff
cooking by the time that the fellows come in. It will console
them a bit."

"It begins to smell good," murmured Dick presently, as he stirred
the cooking mixture.

Tom busied himself with setting the table.

"All ready, when the fellows come in," announced Dick, as he removed
the coffee pot and began to cut bread. "Better call 'em."

Placing his hands over his mouth, megaphone shape, Tom sent several
loud halloos echoing through the woods.

Dan was the first one in. Greg arrived next, Harry third.

"Where can Dave be?" asked Tom, after several more halloos.

"We'll go and find him, if he doesn't show up," suggested Harry.
"But first of all, let's stow some of this supper inside of us."

"We'll wait for Dave before we eat," Dick retorted quickly.