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Updated: May 10, 2025
Bumpus looked as though he half expected to see some terrible monster dart out of the brushwood, and seize upon the scout-master. He heaved a sigh of relief when nothing of the sort came about; and even condescended to waddle ashore himself that is the only word capable of doing justice to the clumsy actions of Bumpus when in a narrow boat like a canoe.
For two more days the scouts remained in camp, and during that time many were the things Allan and Thad showed them. No one ever missed the real scout-master for a single minute.
"We're going to be kept here on the island another night, seems like," he had told them, "and that means a constant watch. So far we've managed to hold our own, and we can't afford to get careless, and lose out." "I should say not," Step Hen had echoed, as he cuddled down to carry out the suggestion of the scout-master.
Thad saw at once that something must have occurred to give the scout a shock; and he wondered whether it could have anything to do with the mystery of the boat, and those footprints over on the island. "The ghost walked, fellers!" exclaimed Davy, as he caught his breath again. "What's all that silly talk mean, Davy?" demanded the scout-master.
"Hold up!" they heard Thad say, suddenly, as he bent over more than he had been doing up to now. All of the others waited anxiously to hear what the scout-master believed he had discovered, for they could see him moving this way and that. Finally Thad looked up, to disclose a frown upon his usually calm brow.
"He is our Scout-master and a peach of a one too. He is going to take us on a hike tomorrow." "Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Sunday, young man." The Methodist in Harrison Cressy rose to the surface. "I know. We all go to church and Sunday school in the morning. Mr. Phil won't take us unless we do. But in the afternoon he thinks it is all right to go on a hike.
But back of that was Another, the very One I've been neglectin' fer years. It's wonderful, lad! it's wonderful, and don't ye fergit it." The very next Sunday morning, Parson Dan, and all those at church, were astonished to see the scouts march in, accompanied by their scout-master. It was the first time in years that the captain had been there, and all noted how thoughtful and reverent he was.
Young Lambert, the chap with them, their Scout-master, picked that kind from choice, turned down a respectable church-mothered bunch for this one, left the other for a man who wanted an easier row to hoe. It was some stunt, as the boys say. It took a man like Phil Lambert to put it through. He has the crowd where he wants them now though.
Look at it now, and you'll see that it's as steady as anything; yet you can hear the rush of the wind through the treetops just the same. It's turned around as much as twenty degrees, I should say." "And that's bad for the boat, ain't it?" Bumpus wanted to know. "I'm afraid so," the scout-master replied; "because it will get the full force of both wind and heavy seas.
And so they continued to discuss matters from every view-point possible, as only wide-awake boys may. Meanwhile the scout-master, thinking that while the rain held off he might as well step out and take a little look around, proceeded to do so.
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