The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island

Herbert Carter
The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon
Island

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Title: The, Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island or Marooned Among the
Game-fish Poachers
Author: Herbert Carter
Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8067] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on June 11, 2003]
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SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND ***

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THE BOY SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND
Or Marooned Among the Game-Fish Poachers
By Herbert Carter

CHAPTER I
OUT FOR A ROYAL GOOD TIME
"Will you do me a favor, Bumpus?"
"Sure I will, Giraffe; what is it you want now?"
"Then tell me who that is talking to our scoutmaster, Dr. Philander
Hobbs; because, you know, I've just come in after a scout ahead, and
first thing saw was a stranger among the patrol boys."
"Oh! You mean that thin chap who came along in his buggy a bit ago,
chasing after us all the way from that town where we had a bite of
lunch? Why, I understand he's the son of the telegraph operator there.
You know we made arrangements with him to try and get a message to
us, if one came along."
"Whew! then I hope he ain't fetched a message that'll spoil all our fun,
just when we've got to the last leg of the journey, with the boat only a
few miles further on! That'd be the limit Bumpus. You don't know
anything about it, I reckon?"

"Well, our scout-master looks kinder down in the mouth, and I'm afraid
it must be some sort of a recall to duty for him," remarked a third lad,
also wearing the khaki garments of a Boy Scout, as he joined the pair
who were talking.
"I'm afraid you're right, Davy," said the tall, angular fellow who
seemed to own the queer name of Giraffe, though his long neck plainly
proved why it had been given to him by his mates. "But don't it beat the
Dutch how many times Doe Hobbs has had to give up a jolly trip, and
hurry back home, just when the fun was going to begin, because the old
doctor he works with needed him the worst kind?"
"But say," spoke up the fat boy who answered to the designation of
Bumpus, "mebbe the Cranford Troop, and the Silver Fox Patrol in
particular, ain't lucky to have such a wide-awake, efficient assistant
scout-master as our Thad Brewster, who knows more in a day about
out-of- door things than Dr. Hobbs would in a year."
"Yes, that's right," replied Giraffe; "but we're going to know what's in
the wind now, because here's the scout-master heading this way, with
several of the other boys tagging at his heels, and sure as you live
they're grinning too. Looks to me like Stephen and Allan thought it a
good joke, though they look solemn enough when Doc turns their way.
He's just got to leave us, you mark my words, fellows."
It turned out that very way. An urgent message had come that
necessitated the immediate return of the scout-master. The old doctor
with whom he practiced had been unlucky enough to fall, and break a
leg; so it was absolutely essential that his assistant come back to look
after the sick people of Cranford, hundreds of miles away.
While the scout-master is getting his personal belongings together, and
the six boys gathered around are trying to look terribly disappointed, it
might be well to introduce the little party to such of our readers who
have not had the pleasure of making their acquaintance in previous
volumes of this series.
The Cranford Troop of Boy Scouts now consisted of two full patrols,

and a third was in process of forming. The original patrol was known as
the Silver
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