master Bill, alias Safety
First. "You're like a lot oh mosquitoes."

The whole camp followed the two scoutmasters and Norris to the shore,
where there seemed likely to be a stampede for the one small boat.

"If you're going to take Norris--"

"Norris can drive the other car back if I get mine," interrupted
Scoutmaster Ned. "He has a license; now are you all satisfied?"

They saw that under his persistent good nature he was worried and
preoccupied, and like the good scouts they were, they said no more about
going. They knew the pride he took in his Hunkajunk auto. They knew
that his one thought was of that now.

Yet Scoutmaster Ned Garrison's sense of humor was ever ready, even in
anxiety or disappointment. It was that which endeared him to his troop,
whom he was forever denouncing and contemplating with a kind of mock
despair. He called them an infernal rabble and they loved him for it. He
was a new kind of a scoutmaster. And I honestly believe that when
Scoutmaster Ned thrust that leather case containing his revolver down
into his pocket, if he could only have known that it was for the purpose
of shooting Pee-wee Harris, he would have laughed so hard that he would
have capsized the rowboat.

CHAPTER XXVIII

ON THE TRAIL

The boat glided swiftly through the dark water.

"Nick will get the silver cup for that stunt," said Norris.

"He'll get a punch in the eye if he doesn't have a car for us," said
Scoutmaster Ned.

"I wonder how he did."

"Town hall," said Scoutmaster Ned; "that kid thinks quick. If he'd only
learn to tie a knot he'd be a scout. Vernon's a pretty good kid, though;
he's better than Mount Vernon anyway. Pull on your left a little, Bill.
What's the matter; got the sleeping sickness? Pull straight for that
light."

"If that wasn't a stunt, what is?" said Norris.

"You are," said Scoutmaster Ned. "We're not handing out silver cups
to-night. Maybe I'll do a stunt to-night and win it."

"You?"

"Yes, me. Pull on your left some more. What do you think this is, Bill;
a merry-go-round? Now go straight."

"Maybe Fido Norton found their prints," said Norris. "He's a bear at
that."

"He's clumsier than a bear, like all Safety First's troop. How about
that, Safety? Come on--_quick!_ Row!"

"Coming?" called a voice from the shore.

"That's what," answered Scoutmaster Ned.

"Your car's gone."

"So I read in the sky. Somebody break in?"

"The small door's locked, the big one was o