Tuberculosis seemed to enter completely into the spirit of the new, for he had walked calmly back and forth over the shaky old bridge which crossed the stream with load after load of shingles and sacks of cement and a thousand other things that were to have a place in the cabin.  There were windows and a heavy pine door for the new room.  There were axes and saws and hammers.  There were buckets and lanterns and iron bars to put over the windows, and stove-pipe for the kitchen stove.  Then, too, there was a grand old crane for the fireplace and the frame for a wire screen to keep the flying brands on the hearth.  Not a thing that would be needed had been forgotten.  It was a weary crowd of fellows that came slowly along the trail at noon with the last load of boards, hung on the sides of Peanuts’ saddle, the nails and hardware, packed in heavy canvas bags, loaded on Tuberculosis.

The aerial bunk was all completed before dinner time, except thatching it with balsam boughs, and all hands would help at that after the noon meal.  Mr. Allen prepared the meal, and it was a real camp dinner.  Could fellows ever have been so hungry before?

In the afternoon the rest of the old back veranda was demolished and cleared away.  A large number of great, tall aspens, the choice of the grove, were cut, trimmed, and dragged in, in readiness for the new structure.  It seemed that all the jays for miles around and all the squirrels in the valley came to investigate when they heard the crashing of the big trees and the merry sound of the axes.  Great piles of balsam boughs were dragged down from the mountain side opposite the cabin.  These were carefully trimmed before they were handed up to Ham, who was in the bunk doing the thatching.  The early afternoon saw the completion of the fine, big bed—­big enough for five people; and as the fellows became too tired to work, the bunk became more and more popular.  Every one was anxious to try it.

A heavy hasp was spiked to its place, and the cabin was put under lock and key for the first time.  They had really taken possession of it—­it was theirs.

“It beats the Dutch how much that yard of stovepipe sticking out there adds to her looks,” observed Mr. Dean when the stove had been set up.

“It isn’t the stovepipe so much,” replied Chuck, “as it is the smoke coming out of it.”

“What pipe are you talking about?” inquired Sleepy as he dropped down out of the new bunk to inspect the work the others had been doing since noon.  “Who’s smoking a pipe?” he persisted, not understanding the conversation.

“The cabin,” tersely remarked Chuck.  “But it has to get warm before it can smoke, and it has to work before it can get warm.  The cabin might teach you a lesson.”

Later in the afternoon there was a great commotion a little distance up the trail, and Mr. Allen hastened to investigate the shouting and sounds of chopping.  To his great disgust he found Sleepy dealing heavy blows to an old pine tree with an ax while the perspiration was running down his face.  He was prancing about in great excitement.