CHAPTER XI
THE TRAIL TO MOSQUITOA
NDY JEROME was up early the following morning, even before Shirttail Henry was astir. He went to the creek, broke a thin sheet of ice, and washed his hands and face. Then, quite proud of his achievement, he stepped briskly back to camp to start a fire, only to find that newly laid kindling had been lighted while he was at his toilet.
Now came Mary Temple, her lean arms encircling a big load of Henry’s firewood, proving that she herself was still supreme as the early riser of the party.
“Well, Mary, you’re a wonder!” Andy praised her. “I thought that for once I’d beaten you to it. Good morning.”
“Get another armload of wood,” said Mary. “Good morning.”
Andy returned from the wood pile and let his burden clatter on the ground.
“What’s for breakfast?”
