ed Merritt perfectly confident that he would be obeyed.

"And now let's rouse out Andy Bowles and get him busy with that tin
horn of his," cheerfully went on Merritt, walking toward Andy's tent.

That youth was much surprised to find that it was morning, but tumbled
out of his cot in double-quick time, and soon the cheerful notes of
reveille were ringing out over the camp, on which the sun's rays were
now streaming down in that luminary's cheerful morning way.

The soldier who immortalized himself by sing the words: "We can't get
'em up, We can't get 'em up, We can't get 'em up in the morning--, We
can't get 'em up, We can't get 'em up, We can't get'em up at
a-a-l-l-l!" to the stirring notes of the army's morning call had never
been in a camp of Boy Scouts. If he had he wouldn't have written them,
for before the last notes had died away the camp was alive and astir,
with hurrying lads filling tin washbasins and cleaning up.

The cook and "cookee" for the day--Jim Jeffords and Martin Green--soon
had their cooking fire going, and presently the appetizing aroma of
coffee and fried ham and eggs filled the camp.

"Give the breakfast call, Andy," ordered Merritt, as the proud if
flush-faced cooks announced their labors complete, and with a clatter
and bang of tin dishes and cups the Boy Scouts sat down to breakfast.

"Where's Rob and Digby?" demanded Andy Bowles, as he dug his spoon into
an island of oatmeal completely surrounded by an ocean of condensed
milk thinned down with warm water.

The moment that Merritt had dreaded had arrived.

"Why, he and Rob went off early to see the captain," he said. "I guess
they'll be back soon."

"Pretty early for paying social calls," commented Andy, too busy with
his breakfast, however, to give the matter more attention, for which
Merritt was duly thankful.

After breakfast Merritt ordered a general airing of bedding, and the
side walls of the tents were raised to let the fresh air blow through
them. Still there was no sign of Rob. Merritt grew so anxious that he
could hardly keep from pacing up and down to conceal his nervous state
of mind. However, he stuck to his duties and oversaw the first routine
of the morning without betraying his anxiety to any of the lads under
his charge. At last there came the awaited chug chug of the returning
boat, for which he had been so eagerly listening, and Rob appeared
rounding the little point below the camp. In the craft was another