Bobbsey and his wife, who were putting some of their baggage in
one of the inner rooms, came to the outside door. They saw a big
bearded man, wearing heavy boots, with his trousers tucked in the tops
of them, smiling at them.
"Are you the foreman?" asked Mr. Bobbsey.
"No, I'm Tom Jackson, his helper," was the answer. "Mr. Dayton will be
over in a few minutes. He's seeing about some big trees that are being
cut down."
"I don't want to take him away from his work," said Mr. Bobbsey.
"Oh, he's coming over, anyhow, to see how you stood the trip out to
this rough place," said Mr. Jackson. "Of course it isn't as rough as
it is in the winter time, when we do most of our tree-cutting, but
it's rough enough, even now."
"We are used to roughing it," said Mrs. Bobbsey, with a smile. "We
like it, and the children think there is no better fun than camping
out."
"Well, that's what this is--camping out," said the foreman's helper.
"But here comes the cook, and he looks as if he had something for you
to eat.
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