They went with a rush and broke into eager loud-voiced admiration of their handiwork. They tried the bunks, stout frameworks of pine with lengths of heavy canvas stretched tightly over them, and pronounced them better than any mattress, clamorously upheld the merit of one piece of work over another, and discussed the need of a table, chairs, and various other conveniences. Of course a fire was started, and when the red blaze roared up the chimney they rejoiced at the perfection of the draught. Then began a strenuous altercation as to what the cabin should be called which bade fair to end in a deadlock, owing to the wide variety of suggestions. Neither the scoutmaster nor Mr. Grimstone took part in this. The former believed in letting the boys settle such questions unaided, while the old man so unaffectedly enjoyed the boys' delight that he simply sat in the background, silent, but with twinkling eyes. When a lull came in the dispute, however, he bethought himself of something. "There's a pair of elk horns down to the barn you boys may as well have," he remarked. "You can hang 'em up over the fireplace for an ornament." "Elk horns!" exclaimed Dale Tompkins. "They'd be dandy! Say!" he went on eagerly, stirred by sudden inspiration, "what's the matter with that for a name, fellows--Elkhorn Cabin?" "Swell!" agreed two or three scouts at once. "That's better than any we've had. Sounds like the real thing, doesn't it?" A vote was promptly taken, and though Ranny Phelps and a few others were against it, the majority approved. The horns, a fine pair of antlers, were fetched and hung in place, and the cabin formally christened. "And next week," said Frank Sanson, as they were packing up for their tramp home through the crisp twilight, "we can come out to camp, can't we, Mr. Curtis?" The scoutmaster nodded. "Provided the weather is decent and you all get your parents' consent, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't spent Friday night here. It may be a bit crowded, but we'll manage some way." As a matter of fact they did not have to. Indeed, there came very near being no overnight hike at all. During the building of the cabin the weather had been singularly favorable. It was snapping cold much of the time but save for a flurry or two of snow, the days had been uniformly clear. Now, however, as if to make up for her smiles, Nature proceeded to frown. Wednesday was overcast, and all day Thursday a cold rain came down to damp the spirits of the would-be campers. It turned to snow during the night, and next morning found the country-side covered with a mantle of white. The temperature was well below freezing and dropping steadily, and Mr. Curtis, who had practically given up the idea of occupying the cabin that night, was surprised toward the middle of the afternoon by the appearance at his door of a group of white-flecked figures, very rosy of cheek and bright of eye, carrying blanket-rolls and hung about with cooking utensils and sundry parcels.