"Fetch him outside so I can ask a few questions!" called Thad just then.
"Yes, for goodness sake get me where I can have a whiff of clean air; I'm nearly dead with this fishy smell. I always did hate to handle fish after they got over their jumping stage, and this is awful!" Bumpus wailed.
"It certain is," muttered Giraffe, holding his fingers up to his nose.
So they all bustled out of the door, where they found the scout-master on duty; and all at once it struck the other fellows how smart Thad had been in holding back at the time the rush was made to free Bumpus.
"Oh! this is a thousand per cent better!" the late prisoner declared, with genuine thanksgiving in his tones, as he fairly reveled in the clear air that had been purified by the recent blow.
"I heard you asking what day this was, and from that we understand that you must have lost your senses for a while, and got mixed up?" Thad remarked.
"That's what happened, Thad," replied the other, promptly enough.
"Well, it's not only the same morning after the storm," continued the other, "but just about an hour after you went off to hunt for your belt. I see you found the same, and that they made good use of it to fasten your arms behind your back."
Bumpus looked astonished, as though what he heard was hard to believe; for he shook his head slowly, and observed:
"Tell me about that, will you? Well, sir, that was the longest hour that ever happened to me in all my life!"