"I wish it could be shipped to the starving Belgians," said Ted, as he looked on, sorrowing to think of such waste at a time when economy and careful conservation of all food were urged upon the whole nation.
But nobody paid any attention to him, merriment and care-free indifference being the dominant note of the moment. When the sun was an hour high all hands, in great good humor, returned to camp and, to the accompaniment of boastful hunting stories, partook heartily of the hot breakfast which by this time July had prepared.
After breakfast had been eaten and the eight slackers had scattered, going about the day's business, Ted sat disconsolately by the camp fire, watching July as he "cleared up" and talking intermittently with Hubert about the incidents of the night.
"I'm afraid I can't do anything with those slackers," said Ted, his tone as well as his words indicating great discouragement. "I thought I might be able to wake them up, but----"
"Well, you put up a good talk anyhow," said Hubert, frankly outspoken, as usual, in his admiration of Ted's oratorical powers, adding, however, with his habitual pessimism: "But I knew it wouldn't do any good. What do _they_ care? All they want to do is to look out for number one."
At this moment Billy trotted out of the woods and called Hubert aside. The half-witted young man leaned toward Hubert and said to him in a low voice, with the air of one conferring a priceless favor:
"Would you like to come now and see son?"
"Who is 'son'?" asked Hubert skeptically yet curiously. "Yes, I'd like to see him."'
Ted had fallen into troubled revery and July was engaged in vigorously scraping one of his pots, so neither took note of Hubert's departure in the company of the half-wit.
Billy, who had fished out of his pocket a small wriggling water frog and carried it in his hand, led the way through the woods about a quarter of a mile, halting at last near the clay-covered roots of a large pine that had fallen during a wind storm. At the base of this was a small round hole in the ground, beside which Billy fell on his knees and began repeating in a strange, monotonous, coaxing voice:
"Doodle, doodle, come out your hole! Doodle, doodle, come out your hole!"