While they waited, Will glanced at the window and saw the flutter of a white hand on the pane.
"That's the Boy Scout salute!" he said.
"Another Boy Scout?" whispered Sandy. "I wonder if it rains Boy Scouts up here in Alaska!"
"I wish there were a thousand here!" George declared.
"I don't care how many Boy Scouts show up just now," Will argued, "but I would like to know where they all come from!"
There now came a knock on the door and a gruff voice demanded admittance.
"Shall I open the door?" whispered Will.
"May as well," answered George.
When the door swung open, a stout man of middle age presented himself in the opening. After casting a keen glance about the interior he stepped inside and closed the door.
"You boys seem to have taken possession of my home!" he said.