“Silver Tip is a grizzly,” explained Harry, “a grizzly bear you know.  Dad says he’s the biggest he’s ever seen and he seems to bear—­excuse the pun, please—­he seems to bear a charmed life.  All the boys on the ranch are crazy to get a shot at him, but they’ve never been able to.”

“Say, that sounds bully,” agreed Rob, “I wish I could get out West for a while.”

“It’s a great country,” said Harry sagely, as they entered the wireless room, where Hiram was already bending over the instrument sending out a message for aid, while the blue spark leaped and crackled across its gap.  The others gazed on admiringly as Hiram, having completed his message, adjusted the detector on his head and awaited an answer.

It soon came.  Tugs would be dispatched as soon as the fog lifted, the operator at Fire Island announced.

“That’s a weight off my mind,” breathed the captain, while Harry hastily confided to his father that the lads who had boarded the vessel out of the mist were Boy Scouts.

“The fog is lifting,” announced Rob, as they streamed out of the wireless room.

“Yes, the wind has shifted,” remarked Captain Hudgins.  “I guess it was that sou’west breeze that brought the mist.  She’s hauled ter the nor’west now, and in an hour’s time it will be clear.”

“I wonder if you boys can put us ashore,” said Mr. Harkness, as the group walked aft to the captain’s cabin; “I would be very grateful if you could.  It seems that it will be some time before the steamer is cleared, and I am anxious to make a train for the West.”

The boys agreed to land the ranchman and his son as soon as the fog cleared off, which, as the captain had prophesied, it did in about an hour’s time.  The boys had spent the interim in exploring the ship and listening to Harry Harkness’ tales of the ranch and the marvelous exploits of Silver Tip, the huge grizzly, who derived his name, it appeared, from a spot of white fur on his breast.  In fact, so fast did they get on, that by the time Harry and his father were called by Captain Hudgins to embark in the Flying Fish, the boys had become fast friends.

The run to the shore was made quickly and by landing the two travelers at a point above Hampton they were enabled to make a train that would land them in the city in time for dinner.  Mr. Harkness whiled away the trip by plying the boys with all sorts of questions about the Boy Scouts and seemed greatly interested in their answers.  Altogether the boys felt quite sorry when it came time to part at the wharf at Farmingdale, the place where the rancher and his son were put ashore.

“Well, good-bye, boys,” said Mr. Harkness, holding out a big hand to Rob, who took it and was amazed to find a twenty dollar gold piece slipped into his palm by the ranchman.

“Oh, I couldn’t think of taking that,” he said, insisting on handing it back despite the ranchman’s protests, “I appreciate your motive, but I couldn’t think of taking any money for an ordinary courtesy.”