They piled the wood on the fire, thereby creating a lively blaze, and fixed themselves a substantial meal of venison steak, flapjacks and coffee, and took their time over the repast.

By the time they had finished, night had fallen over the hills and mountains, and one by one the stars showed themselves in the heavens.
"This certainly is Lonesomehurst!" was the comment of the shipowner's son, as he gazed around the camp.

"When you really get to think of it, it gives one the shivers!" "Then don't think about it," answered Dave.

"Let us be cheerful and tell ghost stories.

I know a dandy story--about four travelers who were murdered in some lonely mountains by brigands, and----" "You shut up!" cried Roger.