CONCERNING AN ACCIDENT, AND HOW HAROLD MADE GOOD

After breakfast of Saturday the Twins summoned "Love" Collins, Dale Worth, and "Shrimp" Warren to a secret meeting behind the lockerhouse.

"Gee, fellows," began Vincent, excitedly. "Last night I caught the biggest leather-back you ever laid your lamps on, and I've got him tied up so he can't get away."

"And what we want with you fellows," added Harold, "is this: Let's the five of us sneak off, lay a long set-line, and catch enough turtles for the camp dinner to-day. We'll treat the camp to turtle meat. What do you say? They're awful hard to dress, but me an' Vincent will show the rest of you how, so you can help. We'll be regular gang like goes after whale and seals, and we'll catch a whole boat load. Will you go?"

"I got about a mile of heavy string," added Dale.

In a few moments the details were arranged, and the turtle ship slipped quietly out of the harbor and made for the high seas. Vincent was captain and gave orders like a veteran. The hooks were baited with dead fish, sinkers attached, and the long line stretched from the island to the mainland.

At ten o'clock The Dingbat and her crew returned to the line. With due ceremony they hoisted the cable and skidded the monsters in on the deck, where they were made fast by Captain "Rocky." One after another the great, sleepy fellows were pulled in, until there were nine in the hull of the craft. "Love" was kept busy keeping them in the bottom of the boat, while the others operated the set-line and rebaited the hooks.

The boys were mighty pleased when at dinner time Cooper proposed three rousing cheers for The Dingbat and her crew. The turtle, cooked to a delicious brown, was an appetizing morsel as well as a novelty.

Just after dinner Bill came proudly into camp with a splendid two-pound bass. His face fairly shone with pleasure.

"And-a now I get my Brown Rag," he called out to Cooper. "Have you gotten yours yet?" Mr. Cooper replied that he would have it by night if all went well, and Bill was doubly pleased at the prospect of being awarded his honor at the same time that Cooper was to receive his.

Saturday was receiving day at camp, and always brought a few parents to spend Sunday. Therefore every boy waited anxiously for the noon wagon to arrive, in the hope that his mother or father might come.

It was just a week since the Botting boys had arrived, yet they wondered why the new fellows should look so shy and ill at ease. They sized them up, each one separately, and on the whole were satisfied. One new arrival they promptly dubbed "Fat," and another "Specks" because of his heavy gold-rimmed spectacles; while a third earned the title of "Cow's Tail" before he had been in camp a day, because he was always behind.

The little launch from across the lake had been at the camp in the morning, and, much to the delight of every boy, Mr. Blaine had arranged a water-ball game on the hotel bathing beach for three o'clock.

Jimmie Vanden was promptly elected captain, and was soon busy picking out his team. The entire camp was to go over in the boats, and the hotel launch was to tow them over. Every camper was to wear his camp emblem and to be above all things a real sport while away from home.

The hotel team had the advantage over the camp nine because they were much heavier, and also because they had had some practice. Still there were reasons for expecting a really good game, for Jimmie was a regular "water-dog" and Martin was by no means slow. Dale could swim under water exceptionally well, and so would make a good base-swimmer. Both Twins were marvels of agility in the water, and "Shrimp" Warren, in addition to his swimming ability, was a splendid catcher.

Promptly at two-thirty the boats were loaded, and the entire camp departed for the hotel. It was a perfect day, and the water was as quiet as a huge mirror. The guests of the hotel were out in full force and were seated on the beach when the campers arrived. The diamond was already laid off in about three feet of water, the floating bases kept in place by boat anchors. Each base, including home-plate, was marked with a colored flag fastened to a slender stick stuck into the base. The umpire took his place in a boat just back of the pitcher.

The camp team, all in white, sleeveless jerseys and black trunks, clean and spotless from the morning's washing, lined up on the beach and, aided by the other campers, gave a rousing Eberhart yell, followed by three cheers for the hotel team; then like clock-work they ran to the beach, dived, and swam to their various positions.

The camp had their outs, with Martin pitching. The ball was large and very light, which made it the more difficult to throw, besides the water in the pitcher's box was nearly to his waist.

The umpire called the game, and the first ball was pitched, the batter striking at it with his open hand. Anything within striking distance was counted as a strike, while everything wild was a ball. A big, fat man was first batter for the hotel, and was an imposing sight, to be sure. His bathing suit was very brilliant: black, with pink stripes running around his rotund body. Because of his nearly bald head he promptly won the title of "Old Baldy." He struck at the ball, but, unfortunately for him, it was clear out of reach.

"Strike one!" called the umpire while the campers danced with excitement.

"And-a shut your eyes and throw the ball," called out Bill to the pitcher. "He's so big you can't miss him." The crowd howled with delight, then went crazy with enthusiasm as the batter fairly met the ball and sent it out to center field. Dale was playing that position. Like a shot he was after the ball. Reaching it, he disappeared under water, not to come up until he had reached "Old Baldy," who was making desperate efforts to reach second. "Baldy's" wind was already gone, and he was spurting lake water like some great whale. Dale, carrying the ball in one hand, grabbed "Baldy's" leg and pulled him under, but in the skirmish he let go of the ball. There was a shout, a wild scramble, and for a few seconds it was a question whether "Baldy" could get out alive or not, for several players had taken his bald head for the white water-ball, and were doing their best to get it away from one another. Finally the real ball was secured, "Baldy" was touched out, and a new batter stepped up to the plate.

The "dean" was on first, and his long, lean body was especially adapted to the position, for just at first base the bottom stepped off. Time and again a shorter man would have lost the ball in this deep water, while the "dean" would simply reach out and take hold of it.

The second batter popped up a good fly, and, being an expert swimmer, made first with very little effort. On the first ball he stole second, and on the second strike "Shrimp" lost the ball, while the man on second ducked, to appear a moment later at third.

The third man up fanned out, making two out, and next batter knocked an easy fly right into Martin's hands.

The "dean" was first up for the camp and knocked a two-bagger to start with. Then followed two outs. Longley bunted and got safe to first, while the "dean" stole second by outwitting the shortstop.

Vincent was up to bat - two outs and no runs. The camp boys shouted all manner of advice to him until the pitcher had trouble in placing the ball. Vincent was so small he was hard to find, consequently he got his base on balls. Harold followed him to bat.

"Now, old boy, soak her out,' called Dale.

"And-a kill it, kid," shouted Bill.

"Strike one!" called the umpire.

"Strike two!" came a second later. Harold dug his feet into the wet sand and prepared to make his last attempt, conscious that his reputation was at stake. The ball went wild. He had another chance. He swung his arm hard, then, suddenly changing his mind, he bunted. The ball fell dead in front of home-plate, but Harold was gone. The catcher made a dive for it and missed it, his splash sending it floating far back of home-plate. He swam after it, then hurled it to first, but Harold was already there and the "dean" safely home. The first-baseman got excited and threw the ball wildly to third. Third missed it, and Vincent stole third. Harold ducked, swam wide, and popped up at second just in time to see the ball go to the pitcher. He was safe.

The crowd went wild. The first score had been made, and there were two men on bases. The camp team promptly lost their heads in the excitement, while the hotel tightened up their play, with the result that the inning closed one to nothing, in favor of the camp.

In the next inning the hotel ran in three runs and were getting down to business better every minute. "Baldy" was certainly a wide-awake catcher, even if he did keep every player doubled up with laughter, for he would stop the game now and then to mop the top of his bald pate with a big, red turkish towel, which he kept on the end of the pier.

"Love" became so interested in "Baldy's" antics that he forgot to keep score, and as a result, at the fifth inning, much to "Love's" embarrassment, all of the players rushed out of the water to argue half a dozen points that had been lost in the fun. The hotel pitcher grew angry in his excitement. "Baldy" promptly grabbed him by the neck and escorted him to the bath-house. As he was hurried away he muttered that he would come over to the camp and clean out the entire establishment later in the day.

The next two innings were hard fought, neither side making a single score, and again the excitement had grown intense. It had seriously disabled the hotel team when their pitcher was put out, yet they fought on, substituting man after man in an effort to shut out the campers. The "dean" made a good hit, and by skillful playing managed to make a score on it, so that in the eighth inning it was only three to two in the hotel's favor.

In the last inning Dale did a splendid work, keeping his head in a remarkable fashion for him, while Martin did great work in the box. Mr. Verne was well-nigh impassable in his position at first, and "Shrimp" did himself credit.

The hotel was out, and the camp had their last bats, but fell down miserably, three men fanning in quick succession. The game was over and the camp had been beaten, but on the whole it was a splendid game and greatly enjoyed by all. Dale declared he had not had such a good time ever before in his life. Bill was very sure that he had drunk most of Corey Lake, but was not so full that he declined Mr. Cooper's invitation to eat ice-cream at the den on the way home.

"So long, 'Baldy,'" shouted the Twins in unison as they clambered into their boat.

"Come again, kids!" shouted back the jovial fat man. "Come, and bring your knitting."

The little fleet was soon homeward bound, each boat filled with happy youngsters. Without exception, every boat was headed straight for the little ice-cream parlor, every boy with an ice-cream appetite. In less than no time the small room was full of noisy boys, each shouting their order to the bewildered clerk at the soda fountain.

"I want a bald-headed sundae," shouted Vincent.

"Give me a pitcher's delight," called "Shrimp," while Harold refused everything but a Camp Eberhart special, made according to his own directions.

In one corner there was a clinking of water-glasses, while a friendly toast was pledged to "Old Baldy." At one table each boy ordered a different kind of sundae. Then they were all rotated round the table, each boy taking a good spoonful from every dish as it passed him. "Fat" had just devoured two sodas and was ordering a third when his leader interfered. One small boy had just discovered how easy it was to spray the whole crowd with warm soda-pop from a bottle he was vigorously shaking.

The "chief" entered and worked his way through the happy throng to Dale.

"Say, Dale, will you stop at the grocery on your way home, present this order, and get two bushels of potatoes? There's not a one in camp, and also get the corn for our corn-roast to-night." Dale was pleased to think that the "chief" had chosen him, and he could not help showing his pleasure. At the water's edge there was a good-natured water fight in progress, but after a little coaxing, Dale "Love," and Harold were allowed to embark for the grocery. They had gotten hardly a hundred feet from the shore when Vincent came running down the pier, shouting at the top of his voice. He was very indignant at being left behind, for was he not the captain of the good ship Dingbat? The boat came back and tried in vain to take him aboard, but the fellows on the pier refused to let them land.

"Go on and get those Irish lemons!" shouted Durbin.

"Be sure you don't buy popcorn for the corn-roast," advised Longley. Dale took charge and ordered the ship out, leaving Vincent behind, a move which he afterward regretted.

"Don't get those potatoes wet, or they will sprout," was the last advice from shore.

It was with considerable effort that the potatoes and corn were loaded into the boat. And had the good ship been manned by her rightful captain, no doubt he would have noticed as they pulled out into deep water that she was considerably overloaded. But what did an unruly crew of mutineers care about safety on such a day, with a howling band of pirates not more than a mile behind them, ready at any moment to swoop down upon them and capture their precious cargo.

"Pull like Sam Hill!" ordered the self-appointed captain. "We'll never get to camp with a potato if they catch up with us."

"O shucks!" cried Harold. "We have all the ammunition. Two dozen bushels of cannon-balls and ten dozen ears of 'canister.' What more do you want?"

"Hey, you rube, quit your splashing," cried Dale from his place in the bow.

"I'm not splashing," retorted Harold. "It's the waves, and they're coming over the edge."

The heavily laden little craft had slipped out from the lee of the long point now and was just entering the rough water. A sharp wind had sprung up from the west, and the lake was growing more choppy every minute. The boys pulled hard, but were making no headway. In fact, it was difficult to even keep the boat headed in the right direction. The wind was fast carrying them out into the middle of the lake, while every few strokes a white-cap would splash over the bow into the boat. There was already three or four inches of water in the bottom.

"Hey, you, 'Love', get busy," ordered Dale, "and bail out that water."

"With a bucket or something," said Dale, not realizing how absurd the statement was.

Just then a great wave struck the boat squarely, wetting Harold from head to foot. Dale completely lost his head and likewise his good humor, while the boat floundered in the trough of the wave.

"Pull, pull!" shouted Dale, but he was more interested in the amount of work Harold was doing than in his own efforts.

Things began to look very serious for the boys. The sun had slipped behind a leaden cloud, and a distinct chill had crept into the now strong wind. They were in the midst of a real squall, and were drifting farther into it every moment. "Love" pulled off his shoe and bailed for water for dear life. Dale shouted all kinds of orders, then did exactly the opposite. Harold pulled, then backwatered, doing his best to keep the boat in the line of the wind, for he clearly realized their danger. Strange as it may seem, the thought of lightening the boat by dumping overboard some of their cargo had not occurred to any of them.

"Sit still!" growled Dale. "Do you want to tip us over?" The big basket of green corn behind him and shifted to one side considerably.

"I am still," retorted Harold. "Sit still yourself, and keep your end around square."

A great wave was coming swiftly toward them, its white crest dancing gleefully. Dale gave a mighty pull. As it struck his oar-lock slipped from its socket and he was tumbled over backwards with the force of his stroke. The basket slipped on to one gunwale, and in an instant the boat was taking water. "Love" grabbed desperately for the rail and caught the edge just as the boat went over. In an instant all were in the water - boys, oars, potatoes, corn. The bags of potatoes sank like stones, while the corn floated on the water, and the basket, bottom-side up, sped away before the wind.

Dale, who was a good swimmer, struck out blindly, never turning to see what had become of his companions. "Love" gave one cry and disappeared in the water. Harold heard him and turned quickly. He saw "Love" come to the surface just ahead of him.

"Can you keep up?" he cried.

"Not long," returned "Love." "My clothes are so heavy."

"If I come to you, you will drown both of us," gulped Harold. A big wave rolled over him, and when he again caught sight of "Love" he was some distance away.

"Keep up your nerve," he shouted. "I'm coming." Then he caught sight of the empty boat, bottom-side up, and in a flash he was after it.

"Swim toward me," he called to "Love," as he went after the boat, which had turned broadside to the waves and was being tossed up and down in the troughs. Ina moment he reached it and began to push it toward "Love," shouting all the while, "I'm coming."

"Now, don't grab me," he ordered, when close to "Love." "Grab the boat and hold on. It will hold us both up." "Love" did as he was directed, holding on to one end while Harold held to the other. They were drifting very fast now, and for the first time looked about them. It seemed ages since the boat had tipped over. The waves were too high to see far, but somewhere they heard a shout, and in another moment they saw a boat coming toward them.

"Stick tight, old boy! We're coming."

"Hang on for dear life," came a shrill, excited tone.

"It's Cooper," gulped Harold, but "Love" did not answer, and Harold turned just in time to see "Love" loose his hold and slip below the surface of the water.

He gave a cry of fright, cut loose from the floating boat, and dived where he had seen "Love" go down. Cooper saw him disappear, and a great lump came into his throat. He was nearly exhausted from the tremendous efforts of his row. Every one of his mighty muscles quivered. He handed the oars to Vincent and was just about to dive when Harold came to the surface, one hand firmly holding "Love" by the hair. In an instant Cooper had them in his arms and was lifting them into the boat. Meanwhile Mr. Blaine arrived in a second boat, and the next thing the boys knew they were tucked away in warm blankets in the camp lodge.

Mr. Cooper and Vincent sat quietly by Harold's bed, and Mr. Blaine by "Love's." Harold awoke first, and started with a cry. "Where's 'Love?'" he asked with his first breath, as a frightened look came into his face.

"He's all right, old boy. Go easy now," cautioned Cooper.

"And Dale?" he asked.

"O, Dale is all right, too," answered Vincent. "He swam until Mr. Blaine picked him up in the boat." A smile came to Harold's face, then he closed his eyes again for a little while. In a few minutes, however, he insisted on sitting up, and after drinking a bowl of warm soup that the chef had prepared for him he felt stronger. "Love" now awakened from his sleep, and the first thing that caught his eye was a big yellow wasp buzzing away on the window screen.

"Gee, he's a big one," he murmured, then giggled his happy little giggle, but without the usual life in it.

"I suppose he belongs to the order of stingers, don't he, Mr. Cooper?"

"You better be quiet," suggested Mr. Blain, and "Love" quietly settled back on his pillow.

"Gee, but I did have the cramps," he whispered, confidentially. "I just couldn't hold on another jiffy." Then he turned toward Harold in the next bed. "You're a regular kingfisher, Harold; you grabbed me just like you were hungry." "Now I won't get a chance to light my fires to-day," moaned Harold, "and I had counted so on getting my Brown Rag to-night, along with Mr. Cooper."

"Not to-day, I guess," sympathized Mr. Cooper. "But there will be other Saturdays."

"O, it's stunt night, too, isn't it?" sighed "Love." "Have we got to stay here all evening, while you fellows have all the fun, just because we got a ducking?"

"We'll see," said Mr. Blaine, good-naturedly. "You go to sleep again, if you can, and if you feel real good by night we'll wrap you in blankets and take you to the fire; but mind, not unless you go to sleep right now."

"I'd sleep a week before I'd miss those stunts to-night," confided "Love." "They will be great, won't they?"

Mr. Blaine held up a finger for quiet, then silently left the room.