“But why talk of your needing our help?” asked Alvin; “it strikes me as absurd, though the reverse of the rule is sensible.”
“I may as well confess that I feel uneasy over the persistent hovering of those tramps in the neighborhood. I fear to leave wife or Ruth alone, and I never do so even for a short time without making sure my revolver is loaded and at her instant command.”
“When you come to the bungalow, you can bring Sunbeam and her mother with you,” said Chester Haynes, “as you have generally done.”
“That is my rule, but it leaves the house without the slightest protection, and those tramps, if they wish, can work their own sweet will.”
“You did not visit us to-day, doctor.”
“Crandall is getting on so well there’s no need; he moves about so readily on those crutches you fellows presented him that his rapid recovery is assured. If to-morrow is fair, you may expect us over to dinner.”
Alvin and Chester felt that this visit really belonged to young Burton,—so, after remaining a brief while longer, the three bade them all good-bye and paddled back to the bungalow, which they reached in the latter part of the afternoon.
CHAPTER XXI — Call For Help
On the evening of one Thursday in August, Scout Master Hall and the members of the three patrols composing the troop of Boy Scouts were lounging on the piazza of the bungalow or clubhouse which stands on the shore of Gosling Lake in Southern Maine. It was the day succeeding the departure of George Burton and his bloodhound Zip.
The hours had been busy ones for our young friends. There had been fishing, strolls through the woods, investigation of the different kinds of trees, the study of birds, besides a “deer hunt.” I hasten to say that this was not a real hunt, a dummy being used with bows and arrows as weapons. This is one of the most popular forms of amusements among Boy Scouts, who enjoy it to the full.