“I’m hungry again,” announced Sleuth; “and even taking up a hole in my belt, after the manner of the bold pioneers of other days, will not satisfy me. What are we to have for rations?” “Perhaps the cuc-cook will suggest something,” said Springer, looking at Stone. “I’ve told you before,” reminded Ben, “that I’m a mighty poor cook.” This brought a chorus of remonstrance from the others, and Grant remarked: “I reckon you’re the best cook in the bunch, and we can stand it if you can. Our bread must be running low. Can you make bread?” “Or flapjacks?” cried Sile. “Them’s the things, flapjacks. We brought along a can of molasses, and if yeou can knock together some flapjacks, Ben, it’ll fix us all right.” “The kind I’d make would be likely to fix you,” agreed Stone. “Still, I’ve seen my mother make them, and I’m willing to try.” That was enough, and, encouraged by his mates, he set about the task. First he measured out a quart of flour, into which he rubbed dry about two tablespoonfuls of lard, adding a teaspoonful of salt, two of baking powder and two of sugar, the latter to make the flapjacks brown. With the addition of cold water and the vigorous use of a spoon he produced a thin batter. In the meantime a hot fire had been built beneath the sheet-iron stove top and the frying pan placed upon one of the uncovered holes. When the pan was well heated Stone greased it with a piece of fat pork that sizzled and spluttered. “Now,” he said, as the boys, having set the table, gathered around to watch him, “we’ll soon find out what sort of things they will be.” “I’m willing to take a ch-chance, anyhow,” declared Springer courageously. “Starving men in the wilderness have been known to subsist on old moccasins,” said Piper, licking his lips. “Your flapjacks can’t be much worse, Ben.” “I should hope not,” said the cook, using the big spoon to ladle some of the batter into the frying pan. “You fellows better get ready to tackle them as they come hot from the skillet.” “I’m going to watch,” said Sleuth, squatting near, the heat of the fire having caused the perspiration to start out on his face. “It’s well that all adventurous characters who explore wild and unknown lands should have at least a rudimentary knowledge of the culinary art.” With repeated dips of the spoon Stone had poured enough batter to fill the hot pan within half an inch of the rim, and this he now watched closely as it began to cook. As soon as the cake was full of bubbles and the edges had begun to stiffen, he lifted the pan and shook it with a rotary movement, which set the big flapjack free. “Are you going to flip it?” questioned Sleuth eagerly. “They always flip ’em, don’t they?” “I’m going to try it,” said Ben, holding the pan slantingly away from his body. “Look out.” He gave a toss and a flip, and the hot cake sailed into the air. In vain he sought to catch it, and in vain Piper dodged.