Every one was puzzled, but made no comment. As the Scout Master had remarked, the question of satisfying their hunger dominated all others for the time.
Needless to say the whole party partook of the food with the satisfying enjoyment which waits on sound health and exuberant spirits. As Scout Master Hall quoted, all “ate like horses when you hear them eat,” the feast enlivened by continuous chatter, jest and merriment. Jack Crandall’s chair was wheeled to the table, and with a little help from his friends he did his part well. Less than half an hour thus passed, when the company adjourned to the front porch, the only absent ones being the half dozen who had to clean up and leave things ready for the morning meal. This work did not take long, and all were soon gathered together, the Scouts much interested in their guest, and what he told them about his dog Zip.
“He is a bloodhound,” he explained, “not quite two years old. The breed is not specially noted for its intelligence, but its delicacy or power of scent would be unbelievable had it not been proved over and over again. I hope to give you some demonstrations by my own dog, who is of pure breed, and with more brains than the generality of his kind.”
“Are you sure he will trail you to this place?” asked Scout Master Hall.
“There is not a particle of doubt about it. He has performed more difficult feats than that; in fact, I am trying to find something he cannot do, but so far haven’t succeeded.”
“Will you tell us the particulars of his present task?”
“I left Mouse Island this morning about seven o’clock on the Norman II, run by Captain Pinkham. Having made my arrangements with Manager Dodge, I explained to my friend Chester Greenleaf that Zip would be at the dock and board the boat at twenty minutes to two for the roundabout trip to Boothbay Harbor. I advised Greenleaf not to try to collect a ticket from Zip, as he might resent it, and the young man promised to bear the counsel in mind. All that was to be done was to take the pup to the wharf at Boothbay and leave him to do the rest.
“Zip didn’t like the idea of being left behind at Mouse, but he knew what was expected of him, and stood quietly on the dock as with a lugubrious expression he watched me go. I waved my hand at him, and he wagged his tail in return, as much as to say I couldn’t lose him in that fashion.
“Now,” said Burton animatedly, “consider what Zip has had to do. He left Mouse Island at twenty minutes to two o’clock this afternoon and reached Boothbay Harbor at about half past two, which was fully seven hours behind me. I’ll warrant he was the first one ashore, and in a twinkling picked up my trail and was speeding northward from the town. Two miles out he lost it for the time because I had a lift from a farmer, but Zip knew what that meant, and he loped on up the road, certain of discovering when I left the vehicle.”
“Is it possible,” asked Scout Master Hall, “that he could keep your scent while you were riding in a wagon?”