soon he came alongside the landing and turned his canoe over to
let the water out, and then came up to the pavilion.

"Pretty wet," he said.

"You said something," Westy answered him; "you took a big chance coming
over."

"I'd sure have been drowned if I _hadn't_ come," he laughed; "I wonder
if you fellows can sell us a shovel? Our tent is floating."

I had to laugh, because that's always the one thing that most campers
who aren't used to it forget about--I mean digging a drain ditch
outside their tent. And the first time it rains, _good night,_ they get
drowned out like rats. I thought he was a pretty nice kind of a fellow,
only he was one tenderfoot, that was sure. He had a swell bathing suit
on with one of those waterproof mackinaw jackets over it. I guess his
people were rich all right, and I suppose that's why the fellows at
camp called the pair the gold dust twins. He took some bills out of his
pocket and said, "We want to buy a shovel; you can't dig a trench with
a canoe paddle. There's fine swimming in our tent."

Then Bert Winton said, kind of quiet in that way he had, "I don't think
you'll need any money here. I'll get hold of one of the scoutmasters,"
and he started down the steps. Just then I noticed Skinny standing on
the steps and Bert Winton gave him a push, just for fun, as he went by.

"Come on in out of the rain, Alf," I said; because I knew he was just
hanging there, because he was afraid to come up where the rest of us
were. I asked him where his patrol was, and he said, "In the cabin,
playing checkers." I said, "Don't _you_ know how to play checkers," and
he said, "No." After that I didn't notice him.

Pretty soon the gold dust twin came back with a shovel and Mr. Elting,
who is resident trustee, was with him, telling him he'd better not go
back across the lake on account of its blowing up harder.

"I could never get around through the woods," he said; "because I tried
it."

"Some of these boys will show you the trail," Mr. Elting said.

But he said, "No," and that as long as he came he was going to go back.
He said he didn't want any escort. He was pretty game, that was one
sure thing. I guess maybe he felt sort of ashamed to have boy scouts
show him the way, because he was older than most of us. Anyway, he
started back and we sat there watching him, and pretty soon it seemed
as if a kind of a screen was behind him, the rain was so thick and
there was so much mist. It made him look sort