"Huh! guess that time my eyes were bigger 'n my stomach," he grunted, being too full for much speaking; "but, then, never mind, we are quite a ways from camp, and I often take a little bite around three in the afternoon, even when I'm home. So it isn't going to be wasted, believe me." "Only waisted," laughingly said Jack, and then apologized for getting off such an atrocious pun. They decided to lie around for an hour, and then push on a little farther before turning back. That Jack figured would bring them to the camp by the triangle oaks an hour or so before darkness came on, which was time enough. It was very pleasant for Steve, lying there on his back, and feeling the gentle breeze fan his heated face; for around about noon the sun's rays began to grow pretty fervid, and Steve often mopped his perspiring and beaming face, though taking it good naturedly. Both of them shut their eyes and rested, though not meaning to even take what Steve was pleased to call a "cat nap." It was peculiarly still just at that hour after the middle of the day. The little woods animals must all be sleeping in their burrows, or the hollow trees where they had their nests. Even the inquisitive squirrels were only noticeable by their absence. A scolding bevy of crows alighted in a tree some distance off, and kept up what Steve called facetiously a "crow caucus." The time Jack meant to remain there resting, had almost expired when both of the boys suddenly sat up, and held their heads in a listening attitude. CHAPTER VIII WHEN THE CAT RULED THE ROOST "I've heard foxes bark before, Jack," said Steve, with a trace of excitement in his manner, "but never like that. I reckon now those bowwows were plain dog!" "Sure thing," remarked his companion, nodding his head at the same time, while a pleased look flashed athwart his face. "It wasn't so far away, either, was it?" continued Steve, meditatively. "We have the air in our favor, that's true, but the sound was pretty strong. Huh! seems as if we may not be the only campers in this stretch of the Pontico Hills. Other folks have taken a notion to come up here. I wonder if they can be Chester fellows, or from some other place." "It doesn't matter much to us who they are, since we don't intend to mix with them," said Jack, drily. "That was a pretty husky bark, Jack, and I should say on a venture the beast might be a fair-sized dog. I think I'll look around for a nice club as we saunter along. Never did fancy being jumped on by a mastiff, or a vicious collie. Been bitten twice already, and the third time might be fatal to poor little Stephen."