“It will be almost warm enough to-night to sleep out of doors,” said the doctor’s son.  “But it seems more natural to sleep under some kind of a cover.”

He and Snap took the ax and soon cut down three slender saplings and trimmed them.  Two were planted in the ground where the tent was to be erected and the third was laid across the top, in little limb-crotches left for that purpose.  Then the canvas was thrown over and pegged down tightly, sides and back.  The front of the tent had a double flap, which could be tied shut with strings if desired.

Long before the tent was up and furnished with bedding of pine boughs, Giant and Whopper had the camp fire started, and soon an appetizing odor of coffee and frying fish filled the air.  It was now quite dark, and the glare of the fire made the scene a pleasant one.

“Camping wouldn’t be camping without a fire,” observed Snap, as, having finished his share of the work, he sat down on a grassy hillock to rest and watch Giant and Whopper getting ready to serve the evening meal.

“Right you are, Snap,” answered Shep.  “Even in the hottest of weather I love to see the glare and the flickering shadows.”

“I always think of good stories and plenty to eat when I see a camp fire,” came from Giant.

“Well, I reckon we are going to have the eating, even if we don’t have the stories,” said the doctor’s son.

“What’s the matter with Whopper spinning one of his outrageous yarns?” suggested Snap.  “He must be fairly aching to tell something marvelous.”

“I tell only truthful tales,” came from the storyteller modestly.   “Now,
if you want to hear-----”

“Truthful tales!” burst out Giant.  “Say, Whopper, that’s the very biggest whopper you ever told!”

“All right, then, I won’t tell any stories,” returned the other lad reproachfully.

“Oh, yes, you will; you can’t help it,” said Snap.

Supper was soon served.  It consisted of bread and butter and coffee and pickerel done to a turn, topped off with some crullers from a bagful donated by Mrs. Caslette.  The boys took their time eating, and when they had finished the bones of the fish were picked clean.  Then Giant said something about a train falling off a bridge, and that started Whopper to telling a most marvelous story of an engineer who, seeing that a bridge was down, put on all speed and rushed his train over a gap thirty feet wide in safety.  The others listened with sober faces until Whopper had finished, and then burst out laughing.

“What did I tell you?” cried Snap.  “I said Whopper couldn’t help telling a yarn.”

“And such a one, too!” added Giant.

“And of course we all believe it,” came from the doctor’s son.

“Well, I had to do something—–­to help pass the time,” said Whopper a bit sheepishly.

“Sure you did,” said Snap heartily.  “It’s all right, Whopper—–­only don’t ask us to believe such a story.”