“We went out the stage entrance,” Harry said, as the auto rolled up along the main street; “sneaked through the back yard, hey?” “Oh, I think you’re just _marvelous_!” one of the girls said. Harry said to her, “Let it be a lesson to you never to throw a lighted cigar away in the woods.” “Oh, the _idea_!” she said; “I think you’re just horrid. I wouldn’t touch a _horrid_ cigar!” “Well, don’t throw a good one away, either,” Harry said; “the good ones are just as bad.” “Aren’t you _perfectly terrible_!” the other girl said. But she didn’t think he was terrible. * * * * * Anyway, I knew from what he had said that the dark figure we had seen on our way up was probably to blame for the whole business. Cracky, I’ve got nothing to say against cigars, because my father smokes them, but anyway, a cigar isn’t worth as much as a mountain, I should hope. And you bet it was a lesson to us never to throw matches in the woods and always to trample our camp-fires out before we turn in. But, jiminies, I guess all scouts know that. When we stopped at Judge Edwards’ house, a big crowd of people pressed all around us wanting to know how we escaped. They said that men had tried three times to get up the mountain, but were driven back by the flames; they thought we were all dead. Mrs. Edwards came running out calling, “_You’re not dead! You’re not dead! Oh, you’re not dead!_” Gee, anybody could see that. She just threw her arms around her daughter and around the other girl and around those two fellows. Oh boy, I thought I was in for it, too! I don’t mind leopards and _what-is-its_, but nix on hugging and kissing. Then Judge Edwards and Westy came out and, oh, I can’t tell you everything that happened, because everybody was talking all at once. Harry said it was a regular west front, all over again. Mrs. Edwards made us all go into the house and have cake and hot coffee, and just to show you how things happen, what kind of cake do you suppose it was? I bet you can’t guess. Yum, yum—m—m, it was cocoanut frosted cake. And you can bet I thought about my sister Marjorie while I was eating it. I had three helpings and home in Bridgeboro I would only have had two, so that shows you that it’s worth while doing a good turn. * * * * * After that we didn’t have any more adventures. Good night, we had had enough of them, that’s what _I_ said. We bunked in Judge Edwards’ house and the overflow bunked in the barn, and the next morning we hit the trail for home.