"The sooner, the better," declared John Hackett. "Who's going to buy the grub and other stuff?"

"Draw lots," suggested Dave Brandon, lazily.

"Skip around, Peter, and find a piece of paper," said Bob. "We want to fix this thing up right away."

"I can see my finish," groaned Dick Travers, comically.

The stable boy soon procured a piece of brown paper, which he tore in seven pieces. These were numbered consecutively and dropped in his cap.

"Shake 'em up, Peter," said Bob. "Fellows, the two who draw numbers three and five can consider that they have a job ahead of them."

The grinning Peter vigorously stirred up the bits of paper, then held his cap high over his head.

There was an interval of silence, after which seven boys eagerly glanced at the papers they had drawn.

"Stung!" groaned Sam Randall, with a comical grimace.

"Same here! I told you how it would be," added Travers.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Peter Lexington. "You fellahs certainly done got left—ha, ha!"

"Somebody make out a list," said Dick, with a sigh of resignation, "and we'll attend to it."

Bob Somers got to work. In addition to the articles mentioned by Sam Randall, he added a few simple remedies, such as they had taken on their previous trip.

"Now, you unfortunate chaps—hustle," said John Hackett, with a broad grin. "Don't hang around here. Wow! I'm thinking that by the time we get through, there'll be a few less deer and wildcats to roam around, eh, Nat?"

And the prospect of thinning out the animal kingdom made Hackett execute a few fancy steps around the hay-loft, much to the amusement of Peter Lexington.

Sam Randall and Dick Travers set about their allotted tasks with vigor. Before night, everything needful, including three sleds, had been purchased, and was ready for shipment to Stony Creek, the nearest railroad station to the village of Mapleton.

Some portions of the state of Wisconsin are wild and desolate, and the boys had selected a region where there was every likelihood of finding game in abundance.

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