before.

The young male scion of the Graham family appeared so suddenly before
the eyes of the girl campers that some of them afterward expressed the
suspicion that he walked timidly on his tiptoes all the way from his
home to the camp. Indeed all the members of Flamingo Fire have today a
decided impression that the sound of his voice was the first notice they
had of his approach.

Whether this impression be a true one or not, that voice was enough to
compel memory of it ahead of anything else. It was the most effeminately
high-pitched voice the girls had ever heard.

"Excuse me, young ladies, but my name is James Graham, Jr.," squeaked
the treble clef.

There was a general start throughout the camp. Most of the girls were
seated upon the grassy plot within the crescent arrangement of the tents
and engaged in their forenoon routine, and several of them actually
dropped their craft work into their laps so great was their surprise.
Ethel Zimmerman uttered a little cry of astonishment in almost the same
key as the announcement of the newcomer.

The latter was almost as effeminate in appearance as in voice. First, he
was very much overgrown and fleshy. He probably weighed 150 pounds. His
face was round and very pale, and his eyes were not over-endowed with
expression. He wore a "peaches-and-cream" two-piece suit and a panama
fedora and carried a delicate bamboo cane.

"My two thoughtful sisters info'med me that you young ladies were in
need of the assistance of a man, and I volunteered to offer my aid,"
continued young Master Graham.

"Oh dear me," replied Katherine; "it would be a shame to put you to so
much trouble. We thank you ever so much for your offer, but we'd much
rather retain the friendship of your folks by urging you not to insist.
If you really must be so good as you suggest, you might go back and send
your hostler or chauffeur, but tell him to bring a pair of rubber boots
that reach to his ears."

This rather enigmatical answer puzzled the not very quick-witted James,
Jr., and his chin dropped.

"You see, we want a pile-driver out in the lake to sink some posts into
the submarine earth," Katherine continued. "But, by the way, come to
think of it, you might help us wonderfully if you have a rowboat and
would lend it to us for an hour or two."

"Sure I've got a boat," replied the "would-(not)-be ladies' aid," as one
of the girls afterward dubbed him. The tone of relief with which he now
spoke was u