On the evening succeeding the interesting story told by Uncle of the once famous sea serpent, the majority of the Boy were seated on the porch of the exchanging the day’s experiences. The half dozen to prepare supper were as busy as they could be, for they like their waiting companions were exceedingly a-hungered. Some had spent hours in fishing for , , , pickerel and lake ; others had strolled through the , woods, studying trees and bird life, and all had added to their splendid reserve of health, animal spirits, and that genuine happiness which comes only with an upright life, clean habits and the constant seeking of an opportunity to do others a “good turn.”  
The day had been an ideal one, with radiant sunshine, surcharged with and with a sky of a crystalline clearness which Italy throughout all its historic centuries has never surpassed. The summer was drawing to a close; the nights were perceptibly longer, and there was a crisp coolness which increased after sunset and told of the coming of autumn and winter.
 
Master Hall sat among his boys looking out upon the lake, the conversation and not important enough to call for record. The chair in which Crandall reclined while he talked had been carried inside by two of the Scouts, Doctor Spellman having advised that this should be done now that the weather was growing .
 
Suddenly, Gerald Hume, of the Stag Patrol, who sat nearest to the end of the porch, said:
 
“Hello? we have a visitor.”
 
A general turning of heads followed. Coming along the beach from the direction of Uncle Elk’s home was a boy, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, rather tall for his age, dressed in khaki, with leggings, a close-fitting cap and short coat with belt around the waist. While his resembled in some respects that of the Boy Scouts, it was not the same. He swung a swagger or short in his right hand, and advanced with the grace of an athlete. As he drew nearer it was seen that he had a pleasing face, with regular features, dark eyes and hair, and that air which while it cannot be described, yet reveals the polish and culture of the true gentleman.
 
Glancing aside at the boys who were busy with their culinary duties, he stepped lightly upon the porch and with a military called out:
 
“Good evening, boys; I am glad to meet you.”
 
Scout Master Hall and every youth sprang to their feet and made the regulation salute, the leader advancing and offering his hand.
 
“And I assure you we are all pleased to welcome you. You are in time to join us at supper and of course will stay over night. Are you alone?”
 
“I am; my name is George Burton and my home is in the city of New York. I am spending a week or two at the Hotel Samoset on Mouse Island, but must soon leave to meet my folks on their return from the other side.”
 
“Did you come from Mouse Island to-day?” inquired Scout Master Hall.
 
“I left there early this morning; crossed to Boothbay Harbor and then struck on foot, just as my brother and I did last summer in tramping through Switzerland. A farmer gave me a ride of several miles, when I resorted to shanks-mare again. Then I caught another ride—not quite so long as the former—until I came to the half-broken track through the woods, over which I believe the that brings your supplies. I had heard that a party of Boy Scouts were stopping at the clubhouse, which I saw from the other side of the lake, so I skirted the sheet of water to this point.”
 
“That makes a pretty good tramp for one day,” remarked the Scout Master.
 
“I have done a good deal better, and I am sure it would not tax any one of you. You asked me a few minutes ago if I were alone; I am, but I expect soon to be joined by a friend.”204
 
Young Burton laughed at the surprised looks turned toward him.
 
“He is my dog, named Zip.”
 
“He will be as welcome as his master,” said Mr. Hall.
 
“I know that and I thank you for us both.”
 
“It’s mesilf that is wondering why ye don’t kaap company,” said Mike Murphy; “me dad explained to Father Hoogan, as his rason for taking me wid him whereiver he wint, that he liked to have a pup at his heels whin he wandered round the country.”
 
The visitor smiled at the Irish lad’s , and was on the point of answering the , when the Scouts in charge of the dinner preparations announced that the meal was ready.
 
“We are all curious to hear your story, which we know is interesting,” remarked the Scout Master as he and the boys rose to their feet, “but nothing can be so attractive just now as the meal to which we have just been summoned.”
 
“I am of your opinion,” replied Burton, moving off with the others to the table.205
 
“May I ask when you look for the arrival of your friend Zip?”
 
The guest took out his watch and glanced at its face.
 
“It is now half-past six; he ought to be here by seven; I must allow him some .”
 
Every one was puzzled, but made no comment. As the Scout Master had remarked, the question of satisfying their hunger dominated all others for the time.
 
Needless to say the whole party partook of the food with the satisfying which waits on sound health and exuberant spirits. As Scout Master Hall quoted, all “ate like horses when you hear them eat,” the feast enlivened by continuous , jest and merriment. Jack Crandall’s chair was wheeled to the table, and with a little help from his friends he did his part well. Less than half an hour thus passed, when the company to the front porch, the only absent ones being the half dozen who had to clean up and leave things ready for the morning meal. This work did not take long, and all were soon gathered together, the Scouts much interested in 206their guest, and what he told them about his dog Zip.
 
“He is a bloodhound,” he explained, “not quite two years old. The breed is not for its intellige............