Also they had hauled loads of lumber from Dry Lake, wherewith to build their monotonously modest ten-by-twelve shacks with one door and one window apiece and a round hole in the roof big enough for a length of stove-pipe to thrust itself aggressively into the open and say by its smoke signal whether the owner was at home.

And now, having heard of the mysterious excursion due that day, they had come to see just what would take place.
"She's fifteen minutes late," the agent volunteered, thrusting his head through the open window.

"Looking for friends, boys ?" "Andy is," Pink informed him cheerfully.

"The rest of us are just hanging around through sympathy.

It's his girl coming." "Well, I guess he thinks he needs a housekeeper now," the agent grinned.
"Why don't you fellows get busy now and rustle some cooks ?" "Girls don't like to cook over a camp-fire," Cal Emmett told him soberly.