he make that dive gracefully?" demanded Reddy, bursting
with laughter to think how he had shot the dude overboard by a sly
twist of the wheel on the _Duchess_.

Purt was really ashamed of his present appearance. He felt it
necessary to excuse it to the girls.

"Weally," he said, when he came ashore, "I am not pwesentible; but I
hope you ladies understand that it was an unavoidable accident."

"I don't know about that," said Laura, gravely.

"Oh! I assure you, Miss Belding," Purt hastened to say, "I had no
intention of going overboard--weally!"

"So you were not actually trying to rescue the dog?" demanded Jess.

"That howwible cweature!" gasped Purt, in disgust. "I would fling him
from the tallest cliff there is--could I safely do so."

"And not try to dive after him--eh?" chuckled Bobby.

"You are cruelty incarnate!" exclaimed Jess, gravely. "I am horrified
to find that we have a boy at Central High who would willingly destroy
such a beautiful--Oh! oh!" shrieked Jess, who had been facing a thick
path of woods below this open camping place. "What is _that_? It's a
bear!" she concluded, asking and answering the question herself.

She started in a very lively fashion for the boats. Some of the other
girls were quite as agile. Like the word "mouse" in domestic scenes,
the cry of "Bear!" in ruder surroundings "always gets a rise out of
the girls," as Chet Belding slangily expressed it.

But it was not a bear. Purt Sweet was stooping to aid in blowing up
the flame of the campfire over which they proposed making Mrs. Morse a
cup of tea. He did not see the "bear" coming.

But the other boys recognized the object that had so frightened Jess,
and they burst into a roar of laughter. Out of the bushes and across
the opening in the wood came a half wet, bedraggled dog, which, with
a joyful whine, leaped upon the individual who had so fatally
attracted his doggish love and loyalty!

"The Barnacle!" yelled Chet. "What did I tell you? Talk about 'the cat
coming back?' Crickey! the cat wasn't in it with this mongrel of
Purt's."

In the exuberance of his joy Barnacle fairly pitched Purt across the
fire, and tipped over the pail of water that had been hung over it to
boil. The dude seemed fated to fall into trouble on this first day of
the outing.

But now Purt was mad! He scrambled up, found a club, and chased the
barking Barnacle all about the camp. The dog would not be chased away.
Perhaps he had observed Lizzie openi