LITMIR.BIZ

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its long arms at me, and staring to beat the band. Do you see anything there, fellows?"

      "Not a thing, Chatz," replied Artha, cheerfully. "To the foolish house for you!"

      "What's that?" said Toby, holding up his hand, suddenly.

      "Did you see anything move?" demanded the Southern lad, eagerly, as though he wanted to prove that his alarm had been well founded.

      "I thought I did," replied Toby, quivering with eagerness.

      "Listen, fellows," observed Elmer, with a chuckle.

      From somewhere back in the woods there came a weird sound, mournful enough to strike a chill to the heart of anyone not familiar with its nature.

      "Oh! whatever can that be?" cried Toby. "Sounded just like some poor feller calling for help."

      "Elmer, you know; tell uth, pleath!" entreated Ted, with his usual lisp, which even the alarm that was seizing hold of him now could not dissipate.

      "Well, I declare, I'm surprised to think that none of you fellows ever heard an owl hoot before!" laughed the scout leader of the Wolf Patrol.

      "An owl – that only a poor little dickey of an owl!" cried Toby.

      "Yes, it sounds just like the white owl we used to have up in Canada," continued Elmer, seriously. "And ten to one now, it was what Chatz here saw in that brush alongside the road. Of course it had staring yellow eyes; and in the dim light he must have fancied he saw an arm waving at him. That was only a shadow, Chatz. So come along, let's get back to the fire."

      "Well, anyway, it looked mighty spooky," declared the Southern boy, stubbornly.

      And he persisted in this attitude, even when some of his companions, who might not have been one half so brave as Chatz, if ever put to the test, began to "josh" him because of his recent alarm.

      Mr. Garrabrant, accompanied by Elmer, went the rounds to ascertain just how the boys had erected their tents. He found little cause for complaint, since the young assistant scout master had drilled the members of the troop in this science, and they had it down quite pat, at least so far as theory went.

      While the Boy-Scout movement of to-day has little to do with military tactics, still discipline is taught; and numerous things that soldiers employ in their daily life are practiced. One of these is setting a guard at night, and teaching the boys the necessity of keeping watchful when in the woods.

      Each patrol had to set a guard or sentry, and lay out a plan whereby the various members would take turns in standing duty during some period of the night.

      The two unattached scouts were temporarily added to the six composing the Wolf Patrol, so that they might come under the charge of Elmer, and profit from his instruction.

      By ten o'clock the camp had relapsed into a condition of silence. "Taps" had been sounded on the bugle, which meant that every light must be extinguished except the two fires; and each scout not on duty seek his blanket.

      Of course there was more or less whispering from time to time; and apparently it was a hard thing for some of the boys to settle down to sleep. But both Mr. Garrabrant and Elmer knew boy nature full well, and for this one night were disposed to overlook little infractions of the rules. But later on they would expect to hold the entire troop rigidly to discipline, when the time for skylarking had gone by.

      Elmer had left word with the boy from the Wolf Patrol who first went on duty to awaken him if anything out of the way occurred. And in turn he was to transmit the order to the fellow who succeeded him.

      When a hand gripped his arm as he lay under his blanket Elmer was immediately awakened; nor did he evince the slightest alarm.

      "What is it?" he asked, softly, not wishing to arouse the others in the tent, who were sound asleep, if their heavy breathing stood for anything.

      "Something moving on the river, and I thought you ought to know," replied the one who had crept excitedly under the canvas.

      "All right, Toby, I'm coming after you. Back out!" replied Elmer, as he wriggled from under his comfortable blanket, and pulled on his trousers; for the air of an August night often feels decidedly chilly, especially after one has been snuggled beneath covers.

      He found the fires had died down, though the boys made sure that they did not wholly go out, since they had no great love for the darkness.

      "Listen! There it goes again," remarked Toby, once more clutching the sleeve of the scout leader in a nervous hand.

      Elmer chuckled.

      "Well, this is a funny thing," he said, as though amused. "First Chatz takes a poor old owl with its yellow eyes for a ghost, and now you imagine the dip of oars to be something as mysterious and thrilling. Why, don't you make out two sets plashing at different times. Those are the boats we expect. Perhaps the men from Rockaway down the river were delayed; or else they preferred to do their rowing after the sun set. But that's all it means, Toby."

      "Aw! well, I thought it my duty to let you know," observed the other.

      "And you did quite right, Toby. But I'd better try and get Mr. Garrabrant out here without awakening the lot, if it can be done," and saying this Elmer started toward the second tent, where the scout master had some four boys under his especial charge.

      It proved to be just as Elmer had guessed. The two men who rowed the boats had preferred to do their work after the heat of day had gone by. They would not even pass the balance of the night in camp, being anxious to get back to Rockaway, the town some five miles down the river.

      So this little excitement died away, and once more silence brooded over the camp on the Sweetwater. The night passed without any further alarm; and with the coming of morning the clear notes of the bugle sounding the reveille aroused the last sleepers, and caused them to crawl forth, rubbing their eyes and yawning.

      Mark's grandfather had been a famous artist, and the boy bade fair to some day follow in his illustrious footsteps. He was forever drawing exceedingly apt pictures, with pencil, a bit of chalk, a scrap of charcoal or anything that came handy; and as a rule these were humorous caricatures of his chums in many amusing attitudes. So he now busied himself catching the sleepy scouts in various striking postures, to the great delight of those who gathered around.

      Between Mark's readiness with the crayon and the eagerness of Lil Artha to use his camera, it seemed likely that little worth remembering would escape being handed down to illustrate the events of this, their first outing.

      "Me for a bully good swim!" exclaimed the long-legged boy, as he started for the nearby river.

      Others were quick to follow his example, for few healthy boys there are to whom the opportunity for splashing in the water on a summer morn does not appeal.

      "Keep on your guard, fellows!" called Mr. Garrabrant, who was busily employed doing something near one of the tents. "The current is swift, and unless I miss my guess the river is quite deep here. Elmer, you go along and watch out that no one comes to harm," and he turned once again to his task, confident that his assistant was capable of executing his wishes properly.

      Ten minutes passed away, and Mr. Garrabrant, having managed successfully to complete the little job he had set himself to execute, was thinking it time the boys who were bathing should be recalled, when he heard sudden cries that pierced him like an arrow.

      "Hey! look at Jasper, would you, how funny he acts!"

      "Elmer! Elmer! come here! Jasper's got a cramp! He's gone down!"

      Hurriedly did the alarmed scout master leap to his feet and start wildly in the direction of these loud outcries. No doubt in that second of time he saw the faces of the Merriweather boy's parents, filled with the agony that comes to those who have lost a son by drowning; and the mental picture sent Mr. Garrabrant flying over the ground.

      CHAPTER III.

      GINGER PLAYS WITH FIRE

      At the time the loud cries had come, Elmer was just leaving the water himself, having had enough of a morning bath. He saw several of the boys running toward a point down stream, where Ty Collins and Nat Scott were when they shouted, and without

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