By the time the two wood-carriers reached the doorway and were admitted they felt as though they had done an hour's work of the hardest kind.
Dave Darrin stood just inside, booted and capped.
"Good enough," muttered Dave, holding out the air rifle.

"Now, Greg, you take this pill-shooter and let me go out for the next wood.

We'll send a new fellow every time." "Then you can take my place, Darrin," proposed Hen readily.

"Give me that air rifle." "Humph!" was all Dave said, as he poked Hen outdoors before him, while Dalzell and Hazelton took the logs and stacked them at the further end of the cabin.
When Dave and Hen returned they carried but a log apiece.
"Dick says each fellow is to take only one log at a time," reported Dave.

"In that way he thinks we'll last longer and get in more wood.
Now, Hen will stay back.