Bonny had baked beans and pie that morning as well as Alaric, for the fare at that logger's mess-table, bountiful as it was, never varied. After breakfast the boys found their first chance to take a good look at the camp, which consisted of nearly twenty buildings, set in the form of a square beside the skid-road, in a clearing filled with tall stumps of giant firs and mammoth cedars. The two largest buildings were the combined mess-hall and kitchen and the sleeping-quarters, containing tiers of bunks, one for each man employed. Then came the store, which held a small stock of clothing, boots, tobacco, pipes, knives, and other miscellaneous articles. All the others were little single-room shacks, built in leisure moments by such of the men as preferred having something in the shape of a home to sleeping in the public dormitory. These tiny dwellings were constructed of sweet-smelling cedar boards, split from splendid great logs, absolutely straight-grained and free from knots. Walls, roof, floor, and rude furniture were all made of the same beautiful wood. Some of the shacks had stone chimneys roughly plastered with clay, others boasted small porches, and one or two had both. Buck Raulet's had the largest porch of any, with the added adornment of climbing vines. This porch also contained seats, and was considered very elegant; but every one knew that the head "faller" was engaged to be married to a girl "back East," and said that was the reason he had built so fine a house. Having little else to amuse them, the men who put up these shacks labored over them with as much pleasure as so many boys with their cubby-houses. Many of the men were anxious to hear a more detailed account of our lads' recent adventures, but Buck Raulet said: "Call round this afternoon. We've got something else on hand just now." When they returned to his picturesque little dwelling the big man led the way inside, closed the door, and said: "Now, lads, sit down and let's talk business. What do you propose to do next?" "I don't think we know," responded Alaric. "Do you want to go to Tacoma or Seattle?" "I don't know why we should. We haven't any friends in either place, nor any money to live on while we look for work." "None at all?" "Not one cent. There's a month's wages due us from the Frenchman who hired us to go up the mountain, but I suppose he has left this part of the country long ago." "I suppose he has; and you certainly are playing to such hard luck that I don't see as you can do any better than stay right here. If you are willing to work at whatever offers, I shouldn't wonder if the boss could find something for you to do. At any rate, he might give you a chance to earn a suit of clothes, and feed you while you were doing it." "I think we'd be only too glad to stay here and work," replied Alaric--"wouldn't we, Bonny?" "Yes, I think we would, only I hope we can earn some money. I've worked without wages so long now that it is growing very monotonous."