One of them got on either side. Then, with the aid of other rails they pried Ralph loose, so that he could crawl over to the "mattress," and get secure footing. After that nothing was needed but to walk ashore. "I'm a fine sight, mud up to my knees, my hands full, and I tell you, it isn't just as sweet as it might be," lamented Ralph, as he started to scrape himself off with a splinter. "Hold on, we'll play valet to you. Take that leg, while I manage this one, Frank," observed Bones, who was really enjoying seeing some other fellow in the same mussy condition that had been his lot more than once. They scraped so well that presently Ralph declared he felt quite presentable once more. "But I'll make sure to let nobody see me in this condition," he added; "and this pair of trousers will have to go to the cleaner's Monday morning, you bet." "Well, are we off now?" asked Frank, as he started to make sure that the fire was extinguished to the last spark. "That's the ticket, Frank," observed Bones, approvingly, "I like a fire all right, but hate to see it burning up a marsh or a woods. Had one little experience that I aint going to forget in a hurry. I guess she'll do now. Let's shoulder our game and make tracks for the farmhouse. Supper will be ready, I suppose." "Supper?" echoed Ralph. "Why, sure. You didn't suppose I meant that we'd go hungry when I invited you to come up here for a little relaxation, after our big strain this morning? Benson promised to have something for us. They're only plain country folks, you know, so don't expect much style, fellows." "Style!" exclaimed Ralph, with a snort, "do I look like I could put on a heap, with these mussed-up trousers? All I ask is a chance to wash my hands and face. But it was mighty good of you thinking of the grub part, Bones." "I don't see how. I always eat with Benson when I come up here for a shoot. It was only a case of selfishness. Say, this is something of a load--four apiece all around, and they're heavy chaps, too. This one is so fat he actually burst when he fell." "But I have no use of any game. Perhaps you'd better give the farmer my share, for his kindness," suggested Ralph. "That's nice of you, old fellow. And I'll take you up on it, too. Benson has no time to shoot, and I don't believe he knows how; but all the same he does like a taste of game, to sort of change the bill of fare. Follow me, now, for the house." Bones led the way, and presently they arrived at the farmhouse, a low-roofed building, where light gleamed cheerily in the small windows. Benson had a wife and several small children. The table was set, country fashion, right at one end of the big kitchen, and the odors that greeted the hungry and cold boys as they entered certainly promised an appetizing repast.