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The taown line between East Ketchem and West Ketchem runs right through the middle of this island." A gaping silence followed this horrible pronouncement. "We eh we are just camping here, pending " began Scoutmaster Ned. "It ain't no question uv pendin'," said Mr. Birchel Rodney. "The ordinance of the village of East Ketchem says that every minor " "We're not miners, we're scouts!"
These belonged to a smaller village in which nothing at all had ever happened, not even the burning of its school. Far from it. The school stood there in all its glory, under the able supervision of Barnabas Wise and Birchel Rodney, the local board of education. About in the center of the lake, Pee-wee saw a small red light.
"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'hote scout outfit that you see here; two troops and a couple of sundries. Will you stay and have supper with us?"
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