stered glen, among
fragrant pines?

"You've got the right idea, Scout Harris," said Scoutmaster Ned.

"It was a--a inspiration," said Pee-wee.

"Do you have those often?" Nick asked.

"_Oh boy_! I have them all the time."

"But how about a landing place?" a scout asked.

"Who wants to go to East Ketchem, anyway?" said Norris. "We should
bother our heads about a landing place."

"Leave it to me. I'll fix it," Pee-wee said.

In the late afternoon they sprawled about and found the velvet coverlet
of pine needles restful to their weary bodies.

"Well, it's all over but the shouting," said Scoutmaster Ned. "All we
need is sup--"

"I'll do it!" shouted Pee-wee.

"What, the shouting?" asked Nick.

"Here comes a boat," said another scout.

"Maybe somebody's going to discover the island," said Pee-wee.

"There are two men in it," said another; they're rowing straight for
us."

"Maybe this is their camping spot," said Fido Norton; "I knew this place
was too good to be missed all this time."

"If it's their place--"

"Leave them to me, I'll fix it," Pee-wee announced vociferously.

"That relieves us," said Scoutmaster Ned, lying back on the ground,
after sitting up to inspect the approaching boat; "we are safe in the
hands of Scout Harris. Let them come. We should worry our young lives."

The boat made straight for the new camp, and it appeared to contain two
men. The one who was rowing wore a large straw hat and his suspenders
were visible.

"They're scoutmasters!" Pee-wee shouted. This seemed as good a guess as
any.

The two men landed, drew the boat up very methodically and approached
the camp.

"Good afternoon," said Scoutmaster Ned, dragging himself to his feet and
seating himself upon a grocery box. "Beautiful fall weather we're
having. Just a little crisp out on the water, eh? Won't you sit
down--if you can find something to sit on?"

Whether the weather was crisp or not, the man who spoke first was very
crisp indeed.

"You in charge of these lads?" he asked.

"Well, we're all sort of in charge of each other," said Scoutmaster Ned.
"I guess I'm the goat."

"He's all right," Pee-wee said; "you take it from me."

"Well," said the man in a drawling but ominously conclusive tone, "my
name is Rodney, Birchel Rodney; and this is Mr. Wise, Mr. Barnabas Wise.
We came from East Ketchem."

"I don't blame you," said Scoutmaster Ned. "I'm happy to meet you,
gentlemen. This is a sort of table d'hot