the signal code, and more than once it got “the gang” out of serious trouble.  The little divisional town where he lived was shut in between hills so closely that it was a veritable furnace in summer, and all who could went out camping, or built shacks on the Three Islands in the little lake two miles farther down the track.  So Benny and his little brother and sister went with their mother to join some neighbors camping, and dad would come down on a hand-car on off nights to get a breath of air, and the coal dust blown out of his keen eyes.  It did not take the shrewd engineer long to discover that the boys on the islands had a signal code.  One would stand on his boat landing and wave a strip of white cotton into a lot of grotesque figures, and far off on another island some other boy would reply with similar figures, and after much “talking,” the various boys would act with perfect understanding, either meeting out on the lake, in the boats, or going swimming, or building camp fires—­it did not matter much what they decided upon, but after these signals they all worked in unison.

And one night something happened of real import.  It was just sunset one beautiful August day, and Mr. Ellis, wearied with a long, hard run, lay drinking in the wild beauty of the lonely lake, with its forest-covered shores and its rocky islands.  Over on the mainland the McKenzie’s camp gleamed white in the sunset.  One could discern every movement in the clear air, although the tents were a full mile, if not more, from where the wearied engineer lay, grateful for the stillness, after hours of the heated convulsions of the great steed he drove, day after day.

“There go the McKenzie boys for a swim, Benny,” called out his father.  “Too bad you’re not with them, but you and I’ll go in together here, if you like.”

“All right, dad,” answered Benny, leaving his fishing tackle to watch his young neighbors.  Then, “Say, the boys have a dandy beach there.  I wish ours was as good.  The only trouble is you’ve got to swim around that big rock to it.  There’s no climbing over it, and there’s only one resting place on the way, but we always go.  It’s great!  See, dad, there they go!” as the two white, gleaming young bodies plunged into the lake.  No sooner were they well out than right at the base of the rock, and along the very beach they were heading for, came, stealthily and ponderously, a huge black bear and two woolly cubs.  Straight for the water’s edge they paddled their way; then stood drinking, drinking, endlessly.

“Great Caesar!  Benny, look, look!” yelled Mr. Ellis, sitting upright and rigid.  “The boys, the McKenzie boys are heading right round that rock.  They’ll head on right into that she-bear!” Benny stood, perfectly voiceless, paralyzed with the sight.  “The animal’s savage with heat and thirst.  They always are when they have cubs along, and there are those naked boys making straight for her.”

Then he sprang to his feet, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Take care!  Go back!  Go back!” But the boys still swam on.  They either could not hear him, or else his voice carried no warning.  “Quick, Benny!” he shouted, “get my revolver on the shelf.  I’ll get the boat out.  We must go to help them.  They’re dead boys, as sure as anything.”