“That’s right,” agreed the other boys.

“Let’s make Bud Morgan our patrol leader until Hugh comes back,” cried little Jack Durham, the recruit of last season.

“All in favor?” yelled Arthur.  “Hands up!”

Hands and voices rose together and a united “How-ooo-ooo!” rent the air.

“All right, fellows, I’ll do my best,” said Bud Morgan as the noise stopped.  “I’ll try to act in Hugh’s place, just as Tom Sherwood is doing for Alec, if you will all stand by!”

“We will,” promised the boys.

“Then listen!  Mr. Thayer is going to put us through a big course in a little time.  We shan’t like all the work, perhaps, but we shall each like something,—–­for it touches so many things.  There are the long tramps in the fresh air, the measuring of distances, the analyzing of the soil, the naming of the trees and plants, the locating of mineral deposits, and the working out of problems.”

Bud paused for breath, holding one hand poised with fingers outspread, just as he had been counting them off as so many points to note.

“Now, then,” he continued, “it’s up to us to listen and learn,—–­and to beat the other fellows to it!”

“How-ooo-ooo!” came an approving chorus.

At that moment a distant squealing told that the Otters were waxing enthusiastic, also.  Down by the pier at the lakeside, Tom Sherwood had gathered his patrol,—–­to which Ralph Kenyon had been added for the period of his visit.

Tom had just been explaining some facts that he had learned while with the surveyors on Ralph’s farm, and even Buck Winter had shown a responsive interest.

Dick Bellamy, as usual, was keenly alive to the prospects in store, foreseeing plenty of fun as well as work.

“I’ll tell you one thing, fellows,” he began.

“And that’s not two,” interrupted Sam Winter impudently.

“Somebody, please put the lid on that youngster a minute,” continued Dick, looking at Sam in well-assumed indignation.  “As I was saying,—–­or about to say,—–­I have often wished that I knew more about the queer formations along the banks of rivers where I have gone on fishing trips.  My father has always had a good deal to say about ‘erosion,’ and ‘glacial periods’ and ‘stratification’ and ’natural boundaries,’ and I shall feel mighty proud to go back home knowing a few of ‘them things,’ as Injun Joe would say.”

This was an unusually serious speech from the imaginative and sometimes irrepressible Dick, and the boys were correspondingly moved by it.

“Oh, if it is like that,” acknowledged Sam Winter, in a different
tone of voice than he had previously used, “we-----”

“We will all want to do our best,” finished his brother.  “I have often wondered about the same things on my tramps after photographs of animals.  I’ve come across lots of queer formations and odd rocks and natural caves and things.”