Nick did not decide what he was going to do till he reached the shore. That was just like him. Peter was all excitement.
"Are you going to signal?" he asked.
Nick often signalled over to town and sometimes he got an answer, for there were other scouts over there. He did it just for pastime. Usually it was the wigwag that he used. But on this morning, noticing the dried leaves all about, he said, "We'll try a smudge, that's pretty good sport; Morse Code, you know." He looked about half-interestedly and began kicking leaves into a pile, Peter doing the same. If Nick had any particular purpose in this business, at least you would not have supposed so. He seemed as aimless as a butterfly.
"Are you going to ask about school?"
"No," laughed Nick, dragging some leaves with his foot; "there's no school for a month, we know that. If you know a thing you know it; isn't that so?"
"I don't know many things."
"No? Well, get some water in your hat--here, take mine. These blamed scout hats are made to hold water."
Peter brought some water, which Nick poured on the leaves.
"Now haul that old raft up here and we'll hold it up. We'll just say 'hello' to be sociable, show the town we're not stuck-up."
They held the old raft, of about the area of a door, slanting ways over the leaves, and Nick showed Peter how to manipulate it so as to control the column of black smoke arising from the damp leaves. Peter was greatly interested, even excited, over this new kind of signalling. He was not quite as careful as he had been in talking with Scoutmaster Ned.