As the last notes of Andy’s call—­to turn to the subject of the opening of this chapter—­rang out the tousle-headed, sleepy-eyed scouts appeared from their tents and found themselves enveloped in a fleecy mist—­such a light fog as is common on that part of the Atlantic coast at this season of the year.

“Pretty thick!” was Rob’s comment as he doused his face in his tin basin.

“Hull-o-o-o!” suddenly hailed a voice from the water, “got any breakfast fer an old shipmate?”

Through the fog the boys could make out the dim outline of the captain’s motor boat even if it’s apoplectic cough had not already told them it was there.

“Sure, come ashore,” hailed Merritt.

A few moments later the hearty old seaman was sitting down with the lads and performing miracles of eating.

“It’s a good thing we haven’t all got your capacity,” remarked Rob, laughing, “or that provision tent wouldn’t have held out very long.”

“Wall, boys,” observed the captain, drawing out a black pipe and ramming some equally black tobacco into it with a horny thumb, “a full hold makes fair sailin’, that’s my motto and ‘Be Prepared’ is yers.  A man can be no better prepared than with a good meal under his belt.  Give me a well-fed crew and I’ll navigate a raft to Hindustan, but a pack uv slab-sided lime juicers couldn’t work a full-rigged ship uv the finest from here to Ban-gor.”

Having delivered himself of this bit of philosophy, the captain passed on to another subject.

“Hear’n anything uv them varmints what slipped their moorings on the train?” he asked.

“We heard that they had gone West,” rejoined Merritt, “but to just what part I don’t know.”

“That thar Sam Reddin’ boy clar’d himself uv all suspicion, did he?” went on the old man.

“Yes, after he had admitted that Jack Curtiss and Bill Bender and himself stole our uniforms and robbed you—­”

“Consarn him,” interrupted the captain.

“You needn’t grumble, his father paid you back all that was taken,” observed Merritt.

“That don’t lessen the crime,” grunted the captain, “heave ahead with yer yarn, my boy; yer was sayin’ that that Reddin’ boy admitted everythin’.”

“Well,” continued Rob, “in consideration of his confession, it was agreed not to prosecute him and he seems to be a reformed character.  He absolutely denied, though, having had anything to do with the kidnapping of Joe Digby here, and I believe he is telling the truth.”

“The truth ain’t in any uv them fellers, that’s my belief,” snorted the captain, “and if ever I get my hands on that thar Jack Curtiss or Bill Bender I’ll lay onto ’em with a rope’s end.”

“Oh, we’ll never see them again,” laughed Rob.

It may be said here, however, that in this he was very much mistaken.  Rob and his friends did meet the bully again and under strange circumstances, in scenes far removed from the peaceful surroundings of Hampton.