"Whoop-e-e, we will see the Internationals!" exclaimed Jiminy.
"Yes, and we get a month at the seashore. When'll we start?" demanded
Romper.
"Just as soon as the money arrives. About Tuesday, I should guess," said
Bruce, as the lads left Mr. Ford's house.
It is hardly natural for ten thoroughly healthy scouts to be confined to the restricted limits of a day coach for four solid hours without becoming extremely weary of the monotony of it all. Bruce and the rest of the members of Quarry Troop No. 1 became quite restive before the long journey to Old Harbor Beach ended. Indeed, the lads were thoroughly pleased when, after the engine whistle had emitted a prolonged shriek, the conductor poked his head in at the door and drawled—"'Old Har-b-o-r—, Old Harbor Beach! Next stop Port Junction."
"Thank goodness we're here at last," exclaimed Nipper Knapp, as he began to gather his luggage together.
"That's the best news I've heard to-day," insisted Bud Weir, swinging his suitcase to his shoulder and crowding out into the aisle with the rest of the scouts.
A stout good-natured looking man with a little five-year-old girl in a bathing suit perched on his shoulder and a big collie dog romping by his side, was easily the most conspicuous individual on the long station platform. Bruce caught sight of him as he descended the steps of the coach.
"That's Mr. Herrick, or I'm a duffer at guessing," he said to Romper, who was just behind him.
"You're not a duffer, for here he comes to welcome us," said Ray Martin, who had overheard the remark.
Indeed, as soon as the big man saw the group of uniformed scouts leaving the train he hurried toward them.