"This begins to look like a fine chance to eat," sighed Tom full of contentment.

"Doing anything, Reade?" inquired the cattle owner, who had quickly learned all their names.

"No, sir."

"Then suppose you take this heart of the cow over to your camp.

Put it on the fire in a kettle of salted water, and let it boil slowly. By that means you will be able to serve up the heart for your evening meal."

"Is there no end to this cow?" gasped Tom.

"Well, a good-sized cow provides several hundred pounds of meat,"

replied Mr. Ross. "Oh, what a shame that you boys have no ice, and no way of getting it or keeping it! I could fix you for a month's supply of meat!"

"d.i.c.k, do you remember what we came out here in the woods for?"

queried Tom.

"To camp, and have a good time," Prescott laughed. "And, so far, we win. We're having a bully time!"

"What else did we come out here for?"

"To harden and train ourselves so that we can make a hard try for the Gridley High School football eleven this fall."

"Will a week of training table undo the harm of to-day's big feasts?"

groaned Reade.

"No fellow is obliged to make a glutton of himself," retorted d.i.c.k.

"Maybe not," quoth Tom, "but everyone of us will be sorely tempted.

You ought to see that pudding that Jim Hornby is putting up."

"Young man, are you going to get that heart to cooking before it goes bad in the sun?" asked Mr. Ross sharply.

Tom meekly turned and started toward camp.

"What's Greg doing?" d.i.c.k called after him.

"Holmesy is watching, learning the way Jim Hornby puts up a boiled pudding," Reade called back.

Honk! honk! sounded an automobile horn from the rough trail of a roadway an eighth of a mile away. The honking continued until d.i.c.k, realizing that it was a signal, gave a loud halloo.

"Is that Prescott's camp?" called a voice.

"It's the camp of Prescott and his friends," d.i.c.k shouted back.

"Get ready for visitors, then!" called the voice again, and this time d.i.c.k recognized the voice as that of Dr. Bentley.

"We won't eat you out of supplies, though," called the doctor, now heading through the forest. "We're bringing with us our own cold lunch."

"Cold lunch!" d.i.c.k chuckled back. "You won't be able to eat it after you see what we have!"

Through the trees now the fluttering of skirts could be seen.

High school girls were on their way to share the barbecue, though as yet they did not know of the treat in store for them.

CHAPTER IX

d.i.c.k'S WOODLAND DISCOVERY

"You couldn't have come at a finer time!" cried d.i.c.k joyously, as he raced to meet the most welcome visitors.

"We're barbecuing a whole cow."

"Then I trust, Prescott, that you came honestly by the cow," rejoined Dr. Bentley his eyes twinkling.

Besides Dr. and Mrs. Bentley, there were eight girls. The visitors quickly explained that, besides the Bentley touring car, that of the Sharps was being used on this expedition, Susie Sharp being one of the girls of the party. The Sharps did not employ a chauffeur, but their general man knew how to run the car, and he was now engaged in taking the cars to a spot well off the road.

"I'll send one of the fellows to get him," d.i.c.k promised, as he led the numerous though welcome guests to camp.

"Lucky I made a special big pudding," grinned Jim Hornby.

"The girls may have my share," gallantly offered Tom Reade, though he groaned under his breath.

"There's pudding enough for a lot more people than we have here,"

returned Jim. "I don't bother making small puddings."

The boys were all called in quickly to greet the girls and Dr.

and Mrs. Bentley. Of course, the girls had to see the interior of the tent, and all the arrangements of the camp.

"I wish I were a boy," sighed Laura Bentley enviously.

"I'm glad you're not," spoke d.i.c.k gallantly. "You're ever so much nicer as a girl."

Honk! honk! sounded over by the road. The noise continued.

"Greg," said d.i.c.k, "that's Miss Sharp's father's man. Evidently he wants something. You'd better run over."

In less than five minutes back came Greg with three other men, all of them unexpected. Mr. Alonzo Hibbert, minus his four-quart hat, and wearing a flat straw hat instead, as well as light clothes and silk negligee shirt, came in advance of Tom Colquitt, the man from Blinders' detective agency. Still to the rear of them was a third man, slightly bent and looking somewhat old, though there were no gray streaks in his light brown hair.

"How do you do, boys?" called Mr. Hibbert airily, as he came swiftly forward. "We saw a big smoke over this way, and so we stopped to find out what was the matter. Young Holmes has asked us to stop for your barbecue, but it looks to me like a terrible imposition on you, and so-----"

Here Mr. Hibbert paused, looking highly embarra.s.sed as he caught sight of Mrs. Bentley and the girls coming out of the tent.

"You already have other company," murmured Hibbert apologetically.

"No; most decidedly we must not intrude on you."