"Is that fellow that's inside lying on the seat—is he dead?"
"No—not dead. But you mustn't go in and bother him."
The scene about the bridge was one of utter ruin. No vestige of the rustic structure was left; it had probably been carried away in the first overwhelming rush of water. The flood had subsided by now, and only a trickle of water passed through the gully. In this, and upon the sloping banks and the wreckage which had been Ebon Berry's garage, the scouts climbed about and explored the scene of devastation.
After a while a scoutmaster and several boys arrived from camp by way of the road. They had fought their way through mud and storm, bringing stretchers and a first aid kit, in expectation of finding disaster.
"This is not a very cheerful welcome to camp," one of the scoutmasters said. "The lake broke through up yonder. The boys have checked the flood with a kind of makeshift dam. We were afraid you had met with disaster. All safe and sound, are you?"
"Oh, yes, several of our boys went ahead and one of them shouted for us to stop——"
"That's the one right there," piped up the little fellow. "Maybe he'll get a reward, hey? Maybe he'll get a prize."
"I guess we're all safe and sound," said the other arriving scoutmaster; "but wet and hungry——"
"Especially hungry," one of the scouts said.
"That's a common failing here," said the man from camp.