So that’s all I can tell you about their talk, because when I went back Harry was waiting for us near the entrance. All I can tell you is what happened. On the way back through the woods Harry wouldn’t talk at all, only he said that the scouts were a blamed nuisance and he guessed he’d go and work in a circus. Gee whiz, I hope he doesn’t. But, oh boy, he’d make a dandy what-is-it.
When we got to camp there was a peachy big fire and they were all sitting around it. Brent Gaylong was lying on his back, same way as he always did, with his knees up.
“Move up and give us a chance here,” Harry said; “we’re tired.” And he squeezed right in between little Willie Wide-awake and another one of those kids. “Regular sewing circle, huh?” he said. “Well, Bill old top, what did you see in the blaze?”
“He’s been seein’ things,” Brent said, kind of laughing.
“Get out—no,” Harry said.
“I saw a transport,” Willie Wide-awake said; “that long log looked like a transport. Then it crackled and I didn’t see it any more.”
Harry said, “Torpedoed, I guess. Didn’t see anything of that scoutmaster of yours, did you?”
“I looked, but I didn’t see him,” Willie said.
“Down in the cabin eating his dinner, probably,” Harry said. “Chuck on a couple more logs, Westy old boy.”
“He saw a meeting-shack, too,” Gaylong said.