While the meal was being disposed of Prescott told his chums of the visit during the night, and of his own share and Dave's in trying to nab the tantalizing prowler. "How many such regiments of guards as Darry, would it take to guard this camp properly at night?" asked Tom dryly. "It seems to me," Prescott remarked, "that you fellows will do very well to sing mighty low about Dave's drowsiness. When I had to call for help last night he was the only one with an ear quick enough to hear me and come to my support. What was the matter with the rest of you, sleepy heads, or did you hear and feel that it might be dangerous to turn out in the middle of the night?" That last taunt had the desired effect. Darrin was allowed to eat his breakfast in peace. After the meal was over the boys sat around the camp for a few minutes. Each hated to be the first to make a move toward the drudgery of dish-washing and camp cleaning. "After we get things to rights," inquired Reade, "what is to be the programme for the day?" "There's a pond east of us that is said to hold perch," Dave answered. "I'm going to take fishing tackle and go in search of a mess of fish. Anyone going with me?" "I will," offered Danny Grin. "As for me," spoke up Tom, "I have a line on a place where blueberries grow in profusion. Harry, will you go along with me and pick berries?" "If it isn't over five miles away," Hazelton assented cautiously. "Then what are we going to do!" asked Greg Holmes, turning to Prescott. "From the plans we've heard laid down," smiled Dick, "I think we will have to stay right here and keep the prowler from dropping in to carry away the rest of our provisions." "Bother such sport as that!" snorted Greg. "Humph! It may turn out to be the liveliest sport of all," declared Dick dryly. "Certainly if that fellow turns up it will take two of us to handle him with comfort. He's a tough customer." "Dan, you always were an artist with a shovel," suggested Darry insinuatingly. "Suppose you get out the spade and see what sort of perch bait you can turn up in this neighborhood." "Me?" drawled Dalzell protestingly. "Shucks! I'm no good at finding bait. Never was." "Get the spade and try," ordered Darry. "If you don't find some bait we'll have to put off fishing until some other day." That brought Dan to terms. He shouldered a spade, picked up an empty vegetable can and started away, while Dave began to sort tackle and to rig on hooks suitable for catching perch. Tom and Harry started in to unpack supplies from a pair of six-quart pails that they needed for the morning's work. "Say, hear that, fellows!" demanded Tom, straightening up suddenly. From the distance to the northward came a dull rumbling sound. "Thunder?" suggested Danny Grin, glancing wonderingly up at the clear sky. "If there's a storm coming it will upset a day's berrying," Reade announced.