standing on some boxes. Then preparations for making a smudge fire, or one that smoked, rather than blazed, went on.
"Make it up forward," suggested Mr. Ringold. "And take a piece of the stove grate from the oven to keep the blaze up from the logs. They're green, but they might burn through, and cause trouble."
Blake went forward to look for a good place to make the fire, which would be fed with damp wood, to cause more smoke. Joe was preparing some splinters and light kindling, from packing boxes, to start it.
"Say, but I am hungry!" murmured Joe, as he looked for matches.
"So am I!" echoed his chum. "But I guess we'll have to take it out in—coffee."
The fire was made, and a dense cloud of smoke arose.
"They ought to see that from shore, if it is two or three miles away," remarked C. C.
"If they'll only come out to investigate, and take us off," spoke the manager. "Those who see it may think it is only a pile of rubbish on fire."
"Well, we've done all we can," said Blake, despondently.
