“Who took it?”

“The tide came up and it was under water.  Do you want me to show you how to make drain ditches around tents?”

They put up the tents and dug drain ditches around them and cleared a place for the camp-fire and brought wood for it.  They chopped supports for their messboard and drove them into the pine-carpeted earth and laid the long boards upon them.  To do Pee-wee justice, the place was an ideal camping spot.  And what was one day’s work of moving, against almost an entire month of camping in that sequestered glen, among fragrant pines?

“You’ve got the right idea, Scout Harris,” said Scoutmaster Ned.

“It was a—­a inspiration,” said Pee-wee.

“Do you have those often?” Nick asked.

“Oh boy!  I have them all the time.”

“But how about a landing place?” a scout asked.

“Who wants to go to East Ketchem, anyway?” said Norris.  “We should bother our heads about a landing place.”

“Leave it to me.  I’ll fix it,” Pee-wee said.

In the late afternoon they sprawled about and found the velvet coverlet of pine needles restful to their weary bodies.

“Well, it’s all over but the shouting,” said Scoutmaster Ned.  “All we need is sup—­”

“I’ll do it!” shouted Pee-wee.

“What, the shouting?” asked Nick.

“Here comes a boat,” said another scout.

“Maybe somebody’s going to discover the island,” said Pee-wee.

“There are two men in it,” said another; they’re rowing straight for us.”

“Maybe this is their camping spot,” said Fido Norton; “I knew this place was too good to be missed all this time.”

“If it’s their place—­”

“Leave them to me, I’ll fix it,” Pee-wee announced vociferously.

“That relieves us,” said Scoutmaster Ned, lying back on the ground, after sitting up to inspect the approaching boat; “we are safe in the hands of Scout Harris.  Let them come.  We should worry our young lives.”

The boat made straight for the new camp, and it appeared to contain two men.  The one who was rowing wore a large straw hat and his suspenders were visible.

“They’re scoutmasters!” Pee-wee shouted.  This seemed as good a guess as any.

The two men landed, drew the boat up very methodically and approached the camp.

“Good afternoon,” said Scoutmaster Ned, dragging himself to his feet and seating himself upon a grocery box.  “Beautiful fall weather we’re having.  Just a little crisp out on the water, eh?  Won’t you sit down—­if you can find something to sit on?”

Whether the weather was crisp or not, the man who spoke first was very crisp indeed.

“You in charge of these lads?” he asked.

“Well, we’re all sort of in charge of each other,” said Scoutmaster Ned.  “I guess I’m the goat.”

“He’s all right,” Pee-wee said; “you take it from me.”