"And you, Chubby?"

Dave Brandon laughed. "I managed it easily," he said. "My folks have an idea that I don't exercise enough, and they think a trip of this kind will be just the thing."

"So it will be," said Nat. "You're beginning to look like a fat boy in a five cent show."

"Do you think there will be much work to do?" asked Dave, with pretended alarm.

"Well, rather—chopping wood, building camps, tramping twenty miles on hunting trips—oh, I guess you'll find enough to keep you busy."

"I 'clar' to goodness, boys, yo'll be froze," said Peter Lexington.

"A little snow and ice doesn't scare us, Peter," rejoined Bob, smilingly.

"Talk about hunting," put in Hackett, bringing a stick up to the level of his shoulder and squinting one eye along it. "I can hardly wait. Just let me get a crack at something—the bigger the better."

"That's the ticket," chimed in Nat. "It will beat a summer trip all hollow. Say, fellows, what will we need?"

"Help, befoah de voyage am over," interrupted Peter, with a loud chuckle.

"Now don't begin any croaking, Peter, or you'll scare our little friend from going."

"Indeed he won't do anything of the kind," retorted Tom Clifton, indignantly.

"We'll need lots of stuff," said Sam Randall; "tea, coffee, sugar, spices, flour, canned goods, potatoes, beans, molasses, bacon, blankets, skates, and snow-shoes."

"We can pack the whole business on a couple of sleds," observed Dick Travers; "and send them by freight to some station near the backwoods. Got your map, Bob?"

"Sure."

In a short time, seven boys were bending over a map which Bob had spread out on a bale of hay.

"Stony Creek—that looks like a good place to start from," said Bob, indicating a point with his forefinger.

"From there, we might hire a sleigh to take us to Mapleton," put in Dave Brandon, with a yawn.

"A good idea," said Bob. "The whole thing is settled, fellows. Now when shall we start?"

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