Tom and Sidney remained until the second day and then, cheered to the echo by the campers, climbed into that same “ancient thing” that Sid had so eloquently sung of and, accompanied by Sam, drove back to the station. Sam felt a bit forlorn after the train had whisked them away and he walked back to camp rather wishing that he too was on his way to Amesville. But that feeling didn’t last long, not long enough, in fact, to prevent him from eating a very hearty dinner! The day following Mr. Langham made a trip to Columbus. He was away only one night, returning the next afternoon with many packages, most of which represented commissions from the boys. He also brought back a piece of news which he divulged that evening at camp-fire. The nights were getting rather cool now and sweaters and blankets were appreciated, and the fire was bigger and hotter. “Fellows,” announced Mr. Langham, “coming up in the train this morning I ran into a man I used to know at college, a chap named Scovill. We got to talking about things, old times and old acquaintances, you know, just as you fellows do, I dare say----” Chuckles from the circle. “--and it turned out that Mr. Scovill has a boys’ camp, much like this, I suppose, though a bit older and larger, at a place called Mount Placid, just across the line in the next state. Seems they play baseball at his camp--Camp Placid, he calls it--and he thinks he’s got the best summer-camp ball team around this part of the world. I told him”--Mr. Langham laughed softly--“I told him he might have a pretty fair team, but I knew of a better one. He asked where it was and what it was called, and I said it was located at Indian Lake and was called The Wigwam Baseball Team.” Fervid applause from his hearers.