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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Gee, that's a fine note. Want to starve him?" said Ray Martin, sarcastically. "Hi, don't you talk. You got your share before we did. Pretty soft being a cook. I'd like to have that job myself," snorted Babe Wilson. "You leave Ray alone, Babe. He's some cook, he is. So is Romper, too, only he lets his old fire smoke. Look at that yellow haze up there among the trees.
"It'll be a sight for sore eyes. Say, fellows, I'll tell you what. Let's bring old Nanny Haskell down and give her a seat on the visitors' stand. I guess Mr. Ford could arrange that for us. It might cheer the poor old soul up a little. How is she to-day? Any one been up to the hospital?" "Sure, Romper and I were up there.
Then, under Bruce's direction, several wove the cordage into a block and tackle arrangement. This done, a group headed by Romper Ryan removed shoes and stockings and began to ford the shallow stream, carrying the block and tackle with them. In no time they had one of the pulleys lashed to a substantial maple tree by the roadside.
"Say, Romper, is your fire really out?" queried Bruce, looking at the fireplace. Then he added: "Sure enough, but by gollies I smell some I hope it isn't gee, look over to the west there above the trees: Is that smoke? Is it? Say, fellows, can it be a forest fire? Gee, I hope not." "Forest fire!" exclaimed half a dozen scouts.
Shouting to Romper to turn off the gas, he dropped the blow pipe, and plunging a handkerchief in a fire pail that stood near by, he tied the cloth over his nose and mouth. Then he hoisted himself through the window and disappeared.
Bruce and two companions, Romper Ryan and Jiminy Gordon, were passing the Post Office just as Morton McCabe, the little old man who delivered mail in the southern district of Woodbridge, came down the broad stone steps. "How are you, Mr. McCabe?" saluted Bruce. "Hello, boys; fine, fine, thanks.
It stood alone on the prairie, and when the snow was falling the town two hundred yards away was not visible. But when the traveller alighted at the railway station he was obliged to pass the Palace Hotel before he could come upon the company of low clapboard houses which composed Fort Romper, and it was not to be thought that any traveller could pass the Palace Hotel without looking at it.
When'll we start?" demanded Romper. "Just as soon as the money arrives. About Tuesday, I should guess," said Bruce, as the lads left Mr. Ford's house. It is hardly natural for ten thoroughly healthy scouts to be confined to the restricted limits of a day coach for four solid hours without becoming extremely weary of the monotony of it all.
"No, it wasn't," said Romper, rushing to the window, "it was a blasted old bill poster tacking a sign on Headquarters Hi! git out o' there! This isn't an old barn!" he shouted to the bill poster. But that individual never heard him and kept tacking away until the bill was up. Then he went on down the road whistling merrily. "Hang it, Headquarters will look like a billboard soon.
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