"I don't see why," remarked Bill innocently. "It's perfectly fresh." "Not half as fresh as some fellows I know," retorted Ted, as he looked about for something to throw at his tormentors. But they laughingly scurried out of reach and then turned to cleaning the fish. By the time Rooster had the fire going, the fish were ready, and soon the delicious aroma whetted still further the young appetites that needed no sharpening. They had brought cocoa with them in two milk bottles and this they heated in an old saucepan that Garry Grayson's mother had loaned to them for such occasions. There were plenty of sandwiches, besides buttered rolls and jam. The feast was one fit for a king, the boys thought, as they munched fish and rolls and drank cocoa out of tin cups. "This is the life!" sighed Rooster Long contentedly. "And this fish," with another huge bite, "sure is the berries." "Keep still a minute!" cried Bill Sherwood. "What's that?" Complete silence fell upon the group, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Then through the quiet came a humming sound like the whirring of a powerful motor. "It's either a car burning up the road--" began Ted. "Or an airplane," finished Garry. "Sounds more like one of those birds to me." "It's an airplane, all right," declared Bill. "And it sounds as though it were right overhead." The whir of the motor grew to a roar, and the boys, starting to their feet and staring up through the trees, saw the great man-made bird sweep nearly overhead, coming for a moment between them and the lowering sky. As they watched, the plane appeared to waver, then make a dart downward. The boys cried out in alarm. But in a moment the pilot seemed to have recovered control, and the great machine winged its way upward, engine once more purring rhythmically. "That guy's got engine trouble, all right," declared Nick Danter, with a shake of his head. "I'd sure hate to take a dip like that," remarked Rooster, filling his tin cup again. "Apt to scramble your brains--" "Providing you have any," grinned Garry. "Say, listen, old boy, sling over another of those rolls, will you?" Rooster obeyed, then turned to Bill Sherwood. "I've been meaning to ask you, Bill," he said, "how Frank was getting along." "Fine," replied Bill, his face beaming. "Guess the old boy has learned his lesson. Buckling down to his work like a dog at a bone. And home--" He paused, and then added with a grin: "Is once more home. Frank sure did upset us all for a while." "There's another fellow who should have learned his lesson too," put in Ted, his brows knitting into a scowl. "And that's Sandy Podder."