dey's most allers ready t' eat." And, chuckling to himself, Hannibal started toward the cook tent.
It did not take the boys long to dress, and as they emerged from the tents, their faces glowing with health, and bronzed from their life in the open, they were as fine a group of lads as you would meet in a day's travel, or, maybe a day and a half. They were all guests of Dick Hamilton, who, as had been his custom for several years past, had taken a crowd of his chums off to camp on the shores of Lake Dunkirk, a large body of water near Hamilton Corners, where Dick lived.
"Ah! Um! Smell that chicken!" murmured Bill Johnson, as he lifted his nose high in the air.
"There you go again! Displaying your lack of manners!" objected Fred. "Why don't you wait in patience and dignity, as I do."
"Well, wouldn't that melt your collar button!" remarked Bricktop. "Where's the glass case they took you out of, Fred?"
"Manners?" asked Dick, as he approached Fred from the side. "Excuse me, but there's something sticking out there."
As he spoke he slyly extended his foot, and, a moment later Fred measured his length on the carpet of soft, pine needles of the woods.
"Goodness me! Did you fall?" asked Dick, as he looked down, in apparent surprise at his chum. "How careless of you."
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Bill. "Come here, Fred, and I'll pick you up."
