"Oh, I'm glad they're coming," laughed Dick. "All I hope is that
nothing will happen to keep them from coming to-night."

Then Dick outlined his plan. Tom Read, after listening for a
few moments, lay on the ground, rolling over and over in his glee.

"Wow! But won't that be great?" demanded Greg, laughing until
the tears ran from his eyes.

"Say, we mustn't talk any more now. We must eat supper, and then
get ready if we're to play the reception committee successfully
tonight."

At a very early hour, considering the lateness of the evening
meal, Reade, with his knack in woodwork, and with no other tool
than his jackknife, had fashioned the stocks for two "rifles."
These Hazelton carefully treated with mud from the lake so as
to give them a dark color.

"If the guns are seen by the light of the campfire, the stocks
and barrels ought to be of different colors," Dick explained.

Dave was now fashioning two straight sticks into semblance of
rifle barrels. These were lightly treated with mud and fastened
to the two stocks. Then two additional "rifles" were to be manufactured.

Other work was performed, and all was gotten in readiness. Prescott
had a number of mysterious-looking little packages that he had
bought in the village.