The Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island | Page 2

Fox, and the six scouts who were with Doctor Hobbs, away
up here on the border of Lake Superior, bent on a cruise on the great
fresh water sea, all belonged to that division of the troop, so that they
are old friends to those who have perused any of the earlier books.
Thad Brewster, whom Bumpus had spoken of so highly, was a bright,
energetic lad, who had always delighted in investigating things
connected with outdoor life. He had belonged to a troop before
organizing the one at Cranford, and was well qualified for being made
the assistant scoutmaster, having received his credentials from the New
York Headquarters long ago.
Allan Hollister, who would assume the responsibility should Thad be
absent, was a boy who had spent quite a time in the Adirondacks before
joining the scouts, and his knowledge was along practical lines.
Then there was another fellow, rather a melancholy chap, who had a
queer way of showing the whites of his eyes, and looking scared, at the
least opportunity, only to make his chums laugh; for he would
immediately afterwards grin--in school as a little fellow he had insisted
that his name of Stephen should be pronounced as though it consisted
of two syllables; and from that day to this he had come to be known as
Step Hen Bingham.
The other three boys were the ones who engaged in the little talk with
which this story opens. Bumpus really had another name, though few
people ever thought to call him by it; yet in the register at school he
was marked down as Cornelius Jasper Hawtree; while the fellow who
had that strange "rubber-neck" that he was so fond of stretching to its
limit, was Conrad Stedman.
Davy Jones, too, wag a remarkable character, as may be made evident
before the last word is said in this story. He seemed to be as nimble as
they make boys; and was forever doing what he called "stunts," daring
any of his comrades to hang by their toes from the limb of a tree twenty
feet from the ground; walking a tight-rope which he stretched across
deep gully, and all sorts of other dangerous enterprises of that nature.

Often he was called "Monkey," and no nick-name ever given by boy
playmates fitted better than his.
Once Davy had been a victim to fits, and on this account gained great
consideration from his teachers at school, as well as from his comrades.
But latterly there had arisen a suspicion that these "fits" that doubled
him up so suddenly always seemed to come just when there was some
hard work to be done; and once the suspicion that Davy was shamming
broke in upon the rest, they shamed him into declaring himself
radically cured. It was either that, or take a ducking every time he felt
one of those spells coming on; so Davy always declared the camp air
had effected a miracle in his case, and that he owed a great deal to his
having joined the scouts.
"Too bad, boys," said Dr. Hobbs, who was a mighty fine young man,
and well liked by all the scouts in Cranford Troop, although they saw
so little of him because his pressing duties called him away so often;
"but I've got to go home on the first train. Doctor Green has a broken
leg, and there's nobody to make the rounds among our sick people in
Cranford. I never was more disappointed in my life, because we've
fixed things for a glorious cruise up here on Old Superior."
The boys assured him that they deeply sympathized with him, because
they knew it would break their hearts to be deprived of their outing,
now that they had come so far.
"Fortunately," continued Dr. Hobbs, with a twinkle in his kindly eyes,
"that isn't at all necessary; because all arrangements have been made,
the boat is waiting only a few miles away, and you have an efficient
assistant scout-master in this fine chap here, Thad Brewster, who will
take charge while I'm away, as he has done on numerous other sad
occasions."
"Hurrah!" burst from Bumpus; "that's the kind of stuff we like to hear.
Not that we won't miss you, Doctor, because you know boys from the
ground up, and we all feel like you're an older brother to us; but we've
been out with Thad so much, we're kinder used to his ways."

"Well," continued the scout-master, with a long sigh, "I've got to hurry
off if I expect to catch that afternoon train, and there's no other until
morning; so good-bye, boys. Take good care of yourselves, and write to
me as often as you can. I'll try and picture the jolly happenings of this
Lake Superior cruise as I