had been placed in his charge.

This thing of being responsible for seventeen lively boys is not all that
it may be cracked up to be; especially if the acting scout master is a
conscientious chap, alive to his duties. Paul felt the weight of the
load; but he did not shrink.

Breakfast was presently under way, and nobody found any fault when
Bobolink announced that he meant to instruct Nat Smith and another boy
just how to go about making those delicious flapjacks for which he
himself had become famous.

In the cooking contests, at the time the Stanhope Troop carried off their
banner in competition with the troops of Manchester and Aldine, Bobolink
had easily outclassed all rivals when it came to the science of camp
cookery, and his flapjacks were admitted without a peer, so that ever
since, when the boys had an outing, there was always a shout when it was
found that Bobolink was willing to get a mess of cakes ready for their
attention.

Although most of the boys had looked a bit peaked, and even haggard, when
they first issued from the tents, this had long since vanished. The
frolic in the cool water, and now this feast in the open, proved the
finest tonics possible.

They were now filled with new energy and pluck. Nobody dreamed of being
frightened away from camp by such a little thing as a meteor bursting
near by, or any other strange happening. Perhaps, when night came around
again, this buoyant feeling might take wings, and fly away; but then,
there would be fourteen and more hours before darkness again assailed