Upon reaching Polkerwyck, the Scoutmaster went into the post-office, for since he had promised Phillips that he should be the hunter of the party, he had to get the lad a gun licence.
"Now you'll be all right, Phillips," exclaimed Mr Trematon. "To-morrow morning you can take my gun and see if you can knock over enough rabbits to provide us with dinner."
"There'll be a telegram for you, sir," said the post-mistress, handing the Scoutmaster a buff-coloured envelope. "Came in this afternoon, and Peter Varco telled me as there was no one on t' Island to take it, so I kept it back."
Mr Trematon hastily opened the envelope and scanned its contents, then filling in a telegraph form he handed it in and left the shop.
"Lads," he explained, "I've had bad news. Circumstances demand that I return to my home at Guildford as soon as possible. Atherton, until I send some one to take charge, you must be Acting Assistant Scoutmaster. I know I can trust you. Here is enough money to carry you on for a few days, and here is the key of the portable locker. If I hurry I may be able to catch the evening train from Wadebridge. Let me know every day how you get on."
"We are sorry, sir," said several of the Scouts in chorus.
"Thank you, lads," replied the Scoutmaster. "I trust it is not so bad as the telegram leads me to believe. Can you get across to the Island all right in the fog, or shall I ask Varco to pilot you over?"
"We'll manage all right, sir," said Atherton confidently. "I have my pocket-compass, and I know the bearings."
"Very good; now good-bye, lads; I hope you'll have a decent time in spite of the impending weather."
"Good-bye, sir," shouted nearly a score of voices with genuine regret.