Afloat on the Flood | Page 2

totem are brought closer together than others.
Since it chances that the exciting incidents which we have started out to chronicle in the present story fell almost exclusively to the portion of the boys belonging to the original Wolf Patrol, it might be well to give a brief description of who and what they were, before going any further.
Elmer Chenowith, being the patrol leader, comes first in line. He was a manly lad, with many winning qualities that made him a prime favorite among his fellows. At one time his father had had charge of a vast farm and cattle ranch up in the Canadian Northwest, and while there the boy had learned a thousand things calculated to be useful to him in his capacity of a scout.
He had long ago received official authority from Boy Scout Headquarters to act as a deputy or assistant scout master, whenever the regular overseer, young Mr. Roderic Garrabrant, could not be present. Elmer filled the position in such a clever fashion that no one ever questioned his ability to play the part of guide.
Then there was Mark Anthony Cummings, who was looked upon as Elmer's chum. He was the grandson of a famous artist, and there were those who prophesied that some day Mark would follow in the footsteps of his illustrious ancestor; for he would draw off-hand charcoal sketches of his chums, mostly in a humorous vein, that excited roars of laughter. Mark was also something of a musician, and had in the beginning been elected to fill the position of bugler to the troop.
Ted Burgoyne was afflicted with a dreadful lisp, on account of a hare-lip, so that as the boys used to say if offered a fortune he could get no closer to the real thing when dared than to say "thoft thoap." But then Ted was a marvel in his way, for he had more knowledge of medicine than all the other boys of the troop combined; and on this account they often called him "Doctor Ted," or "Old Sawbones."
In cases of snake-bite, fainting, cramps, near-drowning, cuts from the camp axe or hatchet, gun-shot wounds, broken bones, or, in fact, anything likely to happen to campers, Ted was what Lil Artha always called "Johnny-on-the-spot," though Toby could never pin him down to saying "which spot."
Toby Jones was really the "funny" boy of the patrol. His grandfather being one of those Zouave veterans, who had accompanied Colonel Ellsworth to Washington when the war between the States broke out, and saw the latter shot in Alexandria, Virginia, while taking down a Confederate flag, nothing would do but that the boy must bear that venerated name and so he was christened Tobias Ellsworth Jones.
Toby was ambitious. His leaning lay in the line of aeronautics, and he was always trying to invent some sort of aeroplane that would discount all the efforts of such men as the Wright brothers. The dreadful fate of Darius Green and his famous flying machine had no terrors for Toby, though his chums were always warning him to beware.
He had, on several occasions in the past, attempted to show off with one of these ambitious contraptions. Those who have read some of the preceding volumes of this Series know what ludicrous results came about because of this over-vaulting ambition on the part of Toby. But he was not one whit discouraged, and often declared that unless his life were cut short he meant to see that the name of the Joneses went "ringing down the ages" as one of the most illustrious since the days of Paul Jones, the American who fought sea battles in the Revolutionary War.
Lil Artha, in reality Arthur Stansbury, was reckoned a good scout, and a loyal companion who could both play a joke and take one when it was aimed at him; he was rather fond of photography, and addicted somewhat to harmless slang.
The sixth member of the original Wolf Patrol was a Southern boy, Charlie Maxfield by name, though known simply as "Chatz." He possessed all the traits to be found in boys who have been born and raised south of Mason and Dixon's line, was inclined to be touchy whenever he thought anyone doubted his honor, talked with a quaint little twang that was really delightfully musical, and taken in all had grown to be a prime favorite with his fellows.
Chatz had one silly weakness which, though he tried hard to overcome it, would occasionally crop up. He was dreadfully superstitious, and believed in ghosts, which failing he laid to his having associated with piccaninnies when a youngster, and in some way imbibing their belief in the supernatural.
Yes, Chatz at one time had even carried a rabbit's foot for luck, and to ward off evil spirits. The animal was said to have