muscular arms made short work of the dry dead wood that littered the
ground under the trees.

"We win," shouted the Foxes. But their last fire went out as it was
lighted, and a flustered scout prepared to try again amid cries of, "Not
more than two matches." This time his wood took the flame. But now the
Eagles and the Wolves also had their fires going. Mr. Wall declared the
race a triple tie.

Haversacks were unpacked. Frying-pans and pots were dragged forth.
Potatoes were laid among hot coals.

Mr. Wall had chopped some wood and had his own fire going. Now he walked
among the boys.

"You're getting your fire too big," he warned Bobbie. "You don't need
much of a blaze to cook."

"How's mine?" said Tim.

"Fine!" said the Scoutmaster. "Keep it that way."

"Sure," said Tim. "I'll show some of these other fellows how to do
theirs."

Andy Ford gave a low groan. "Good night; now we're in for it."

Tim wasted no time. He approached Ritter. That scout eyed him
suspiciously.