ackle railroad car in flickering tints of gold,
as they made their way across the field to their quaint headquarters
down by the shore in Bridgeboro. The tide was full, the unsightly mud
banks hidden; it seemed as if their beloved familiar river had donned
its best array to meet them. It rippled against the grassy shore in a
kind of song of welcome. The birds were busy in the neighboring willow
tree, and a fish flopped out of the glittering water as if to remind
them that some of the pleasures of vacation time were left to them.

"Hello, old car!" said El Sawyer of the Ravens, as he tossed the duffel
bag through a broken window. "I hope we have enough in the treasury to
get that window put in."

"We should worry," said Roy.

"There's a lot of fun not having any money," said Pee-wee.

"We ought to have plenty of fun then," said Westy. "This old car has got
the County Poorhouse turning green with envy."

"They have a lot of fun in the poorhouse, they whittle things with
sticks," Pee-wee said. "If you always have fun no matter what, that
shows you're an optomotrist."

"You mean an optimist," Doc Carson said.

"Let's leave our stuff here and go home," said Connie. "Then we can
start in to-morrow."

"Off with the new love, on with the old," said Artie.

"There's no place like this old car," said Westy.

"Except Temple Camp," two or three spoke up.

"And under Roy's kitchen steps, that's a good place," said Pee-wee.

"Well, here we are anyway," said Westy.

"We're here because we're here," said Roy with just a glint of his
wonted buoyant spirits.

"You can't deny that," Pee-wee challenged.

There was no denying that, and the old patched-up car, relic of a bygone
age of railroading, seemed to breathe the atmosphere of home to them.
Even the dusty odor of its threadbare velvet seats seemed to welcome
them.

They spent that night in their homes; there was much to tell their
parents. Several of them went to see Mr. Ellsworth, and they were not
disappointed to learn that he believed the authorities were right, that
Blythe was Claude Darrell. They had expected this. The only scout who
could draw his mighty sword against the scoutmaster and the whole town
was Pee-wee Harris, and he was at home and asleep. Mr. Ellsworth praised
his scouts for abandoning all thought of gain from their unhappy
adventure. "Just start all over again," he said. So they resolved to do
that.

The next day county detective Ferrett took