n sumac and
boil them together to make a black dye, or ink. If you need ink in a
hurry, you can take the _Genus Coprinus_, commonly known as the ink
mushroom, and pluck it at the end of its first day. The spores are
black, and the gills turn into a black fluid at the last. This produces
a splendid writing ink, or will dye grass, quills, and other wildwood
stuffs."

"Speaking of quills, Gilly--why can't we have chickens as the Grey Fox
boys have?" asked Joan.

"What would you do if they got the gapes, and no one would feed them
chopped onions?" laughed Mr. Gilroy.

"I'm not looking for trouble, but for pets to have about camp," retorted
Joan.

"I'd hardly call a chicken a pet!" laughed Julie.

"Even so, Julie, it would cluck and _appear_ to be friendly, even it
wasn't."

"What you scouts need is a good frisky dog for a pet. You can have
chickens, if you like, but they are a nuisance. They stray away to lay
their eggs, and if they were kept cooped you'd have to spend valuable
time making a suitable inclosure. But a dog will go hiking with you,
guard you at night from elephants and other prowling animals of the
jungle, and be a fine old pal to boot," said Mr. Gilroy.

"Oh, why didn't we think to bring Jippy," exclaimed Amy. Jip was a
little poodle of about fifteen years and had had the rickets for the
past five years, so he had to be carried about.

The moment the scouts saw that Amy was in earnest they fairly roared,
and Judith finally said: "Oh, Amy's catching the _ingenue_ habit from
Betty! What shall we do with two of them on hand?"

"Had we but known of this dire need of a dog, we would have brought
Towser--had he lived. He was only twenty-two this March, and had full
use of his bark even though he had no teeth or eyesight. But, alas!
alas! Towser is no more!" sighed Julie, rolling her eyes.

As Towser had been one of the "old settlers" in Elmertown, he was known
to every man, woman and child there. Many a time, because he was
stone-deaf and had not heard the blast from the horn, some one would
have to rush out to rescue him from a passing automobile. So Julie's
lament caused a new burst of merriment.

"Stop all fooling now, scouts, and listen to me," said Mr. Gilroy. "I
mean a regular dog--an Irish terrier, or a bulldog, to chum with and be
of some good to you. How'd you like it?"

"There ain't no sech critter in camp," retorted Julie.

"But I know where to get one! His name is Jake, and he is very f