"And it's a shame to waste it. It looks better than it tastes, too. But you won't mind that, you're hard."
"We hain't got no fire to cook it with, an' we hain't got but three or four matches," complained one man.
"Better not waste 'em, then," called Connie cheerfully. "But if you do, they say you can make a fire by rubbing two sticks together. You might try anyhow. Skip along over the timber, now, and show up in the morning in time for breakfast."
"Our blankets is in there," whined another.
"So they are," answered Connie. "I'll let my dogs use 'em tonight. Build a big fire and if you're too cold to sleep, jump around."
"We hain't got no axe, nor nothin'," called another.
"Use dead limbs. If you haven't got an axe bite 'em off, you're hard. And I'll bet you're mad enough to. I'd be." And the boy chuckled as he watched the men pick up the kettle of fish and start laboriously for the fringe of timber.
Hardly had he finished his breakfast next morning, when a call from without brought Connie to
