“Oh, he’s knocking around somewhere in camp here. We just canoed up for a squint at the place. I’ve often seen you in Warrentown,” he added, turning again to Garry. “I heard you fellows over in Edgevale started a troop.”
“It fizzled out,” said Garry, resting his arm on Raymond’s shoulder. “We’re the last of our race. But, for goodness’ sakes, tell us how you come to be alive, anyway? We saw you fall down that cliff——”
Warren Everett laughed again. “You see it was this way,” said he. “On our way up the Hudson we ran into a moving picture bunch. They had a big launch and a hydro-aeroplane——”
“A what?” said Tom.
“They said we were just the fellows they wanted because there was a scene they were going to make where a scout climbs up a steep mountain and then slips and falls down. They wanted to take pictures of him climbing and then more of him falling. They had the hill all picked out and they wanted to know if I’d climb it.
“‘Believe me, that’s my middle name,’ I told them. ‘Let’s see the hill.’
“‘We haven’t got it with us,’ the man said, ‘but it’s a peach, all right—it looks harder than it is.’
“I asked him about the falling down part, and he said, ‘Don’t you worry about that. We’ve got a rag dummy to do the falling. All you’ve got to do is to climb till you get to the grove near the top and when you get inside of that you’ll find the rag dummy on a log. Just push it over and let it fall down the hill.’”
“Well—I’ll—be—jiggered!” said Roy.
“Good idea?” laughed Everett. “Of course, the rag dummy went all the way down to the bottom——”