a prolonged shriek,
the conductor poked his head in at the door and drawled--"'Old
Har-b-o-r--, Old Harbor Beach! Next stop Port Junction."

"Thank goodness we're here at last," exclaimed Nipper Knapp, as he began
to gather his luggage together.

"That's the best news I've heard to-day," insisted Bud Weir, swinging his
suitcase to his shoulder and crowding out into the aisle with the rest of
the scouts.

A stout good-natured looking man with a little five-year-old girl in a
bathing suit perched on his shoulder and a big collie dog romping by his
side, was easily the most conspicuous individual on the long station
platform. Bruce caught sight of him as he descended the steps of the
coach.

"That's Mr. Herrick, or I'm a duffer at guessing," he said to Romper, who
was just behind him.

"You're not a duffer, for here he comes to welcome us," said Ray Martin,
who had overheard the remark.

Indeed, as soon as the big man saw the group of uniformed scouts leaving
the train he hurried toward them.

"Hello, there, boys. I'm the one you're looking for, I guess. My name's
Herrick."

"My name is Bruce Clifford, Mr. Herrick," said the patrol leader,
extending his hand, "and these are the life-savers you have been looking
for."

"Good, I'll learn your names later, boys, and if I don't, I'll give you
names that'll be just as good, won't I, May? Boys, this is my daughter
May. Now come along with me to my office on the pier and I'll outline
just what my plans are. I want you to go on guard as soon as you can,
for the crowd at the beach is getting larger with every train that pulls
in. The Internationals start to-morrow, you know. The racing cars are
all here. For a week past they have been tearing up and down the beach
from sunrise until the bathers begin to turn out for their morning dip.
Sort of tuning up for the big events."

"Will we be able to see the races?" asked Gordon eagerly.

"I don't see why not. They start to-morrow and will last for three
days," replied Mr. Herrick.

"Won't that be great," exclaimed several as they fell in line behind Mr.
Herrick and accompanied him through the resort toward the pier.

Old Harbor Beach was like all other high-class watering places along the
Atlantic Coast, only a great deal larger than the average. At least a
dozen tremendous hotels were located on the heights back of the beach.
There were the usual number of shore restaurants and candy stores, too,
and a boar