Strict discipline was maintained in camp, just as though the scoutmaster himself were present to enforce it.
At the hour appointed, Bobolink tooted his bugle, and immediate preparations for retiring commenced. Twenty minutes later taps sounded,
and every light had to go out save the one fire that occupied the centre of the camp.
Three sentries paced to and fro, and they had been given to understand that any failure to keep constant watch would meet with prompt punishment. They knew that Paul meant to enforce his orders; and suspecting that he might creep out under the rear of his tent to make a secret rounds, they were one and all determined that nothing should cause them to fail in their duties.
Paul was asleep in his tent with two of his mates, when something suddenly awoke him. He sat up to listen, and again heard the sound. It was a dull thud, as of a hard object falling to the ground. Then came a distinct splash in the nearby lake.
"What in goodness can it be?" he thought, as he listened for a repetition of the strange sounds. "Hello! what's going on, Paul?" Jack asked at that moment, raising his head as if he too had been awakened by the several thumps, and wondered what his chum was doing sitting up.
"That's what I'm trying to guess," replied Paul, quietly.
"Sounds as if it was hailing to beat the band!" exclaimed Jack, as a series of continuous thumps came.
Just then some one burst in at the open flap of the tent. It proved to be Bluff Shipley, who had