th his
troop is they all know how to swim and they're so blamed clever that he
never has a chance to rescue one of them. He said he tipped the canoe
over with one fellow and the fellow just wouldn't be saved; he swam
around and dived and wouldn't let Garry imperil his life--and that's the
only way you can do it, Roy. You've got to imperil your own life, and he
says he never gets a chance to imperil his life."

"Must be discouraging," said Roy.

"Oh, jiminys, you'd laugh to hear him talk; he's got that quiet way
about him, Roy--sober like. I told him there's lots of different ways a
feller can imperil his life."

"Sure, fifty-seven varieties," said Roy. "Well, I'm glad they treated
you so well, kid, and I hope we'll have a chance to pay them back. What
do you say we tie up in Kingston and have a soda?"

Early the next day they came in sight of Catskill Landing. Roy stood on
top of the cabin like Columbus, his rapt gaze fixed upon the dock.

"We have arrove," said he. "Gee, I'm sorry it's over."

[Illustration]

The trip _had_ been enjoyable, but now their every thought was centered
upon Temple Camp to which they were so near and they were filled with
delightful anticipations as they made ready for the hike which still lay
before them. The boating club, with the hospitality which a love of the
water seems always to inspire in its devotees, gave them a mooring buoy
and from this, having made their boat fast, they rowed ashore and set
out with staves and duffel bags for the quaint little village of Leeds.

The distance to Leeds depends upon who is making the journey, or from
whom you get your information. The farmers will tell you it is five
miles. The summer boarders are likely to tell you that it is ten. To be
exact, it is somewhere between two miles and twenty miles, and you can't
get back to Catskill Landing for dinner.

"I think it's ten miles there and twenty miles back," said Roy; "_we_
should worry! When we get to Leeds we make our grand dash for the lake."

"Like Peary," said Pee-wee, already bubbling over with excitement.

"Something like him, yes."

Their way took them through a beautiful hilly country and for a while
they had glimpses of the river, which brought them pleasant
reminiscences of their rambling, happy-go-lucky voyage.

"Who does the _Good Turn_ belong to?" Tom asked.

"I think it belongs to Honorable Pee-wee Harris," said Roy. "He did the
trick that won it."

"I'll tell you who she