The plan was the best they could think of, and so it was carried out. The ropes and the rest of the paraphernalia they hid in the woods, and then they got down the hill as fast as their legs would carry them. Going through the village, Dan created quite a little interest, although he modestly strove to avoid notice. They put him ashore a quarter of a mile from camp, and when last seen he was stalking through the trees like an Indian in war-paint. The others got back to the landing in time to hurry into their bathing-trunks and get a few plunges before the signal “All out!” was given. They were very reticent as to what they had been doing, but somehow the secret was all over camp by dinner-time, and the fellows spent the most of the afternoon rowing to and fro across the lake to the point of Black’s Neck, from where an excellent view of the cliff was obtainable. And what they saw pleased them immeasurably. Dan had fairly beaten the Wickasaws at their own game. He had painted his legend in letters fully three feet high at least fifteen feet above theirs, and there could be no comparison either in artistic effect or publicity. Camp Chicora hugged itself in gleeful triumph. Just before supper Dan ran across Mr. Verder. “Why, Speede,” asked the latter, stopping him, “aren’t you feeling well?” “Me, sir? Oh, I’m all right,” answered Dan uneasily, eager to pass on. “Sure?” asked the councilor. “You look--er--kind of blue and unhealthy.” And Dan thought he heard a chuckle as he hurried away. CHAPTER VIII TELLS HOW TOM WAS VISITED BY AUNT LOUISA--AND SOME OTHERS Saturdays at Chicora were by way of being fête-days. Relatives and friends were given the freedom of the camp, and the visitors’ table in the dining-hall was usually full. Frequently the father of one of the boys stayed over until Monday morning, sleeping in one of the dormitories and getting a genuine taste of camp life. On the day following the adventure at the cliff the visitors began to reach camp early, and among the first to put in an appearance was Tom’s Aunt Louisa, from Boston. Her arrival was so unexpected, and Tom became so excited over it, that he started at the landing to tell her how glad to see her he was and only finished at the flag-pole, having been set back twice in his stuttering by stubbing his toe on the way up. With parents and friends appeared simultaneously baskets and boxes of fruit, candy, and cake. Sunday morning found many absent from the breakfast table, and Dr. Smith made the rounds of the dormitories with what he called his “Sunday Specific.” But Aunt Louisa wasn’t the sort to bring trouble to a boy’s digestion; she said so herself in the presence of Nelson and Dan and Bob and Tom, the first three having been formally introduced by Tom as “my special friends.”