Overlook Cabin had not been built for season occupancy. It had been thrown up as a little storehouse for paraphernalia used on the hill, which was called Black Hill because it rose above a treacherous marsh and overlooked Black Lake. The reader will find helpful the accompanying rough sketch of the locality. Black Hill, as will be seen, lay to the east of the camp. The slope was gradual from the south where the highroad passed. But on reaching the brow of the hill one looked down from a dizzy precipice. Between this precipice and the lake was a marsh about which weird stories were told, but the worst that was actually known of it was that it was the foregathering place of a choral society of frogs whose croaking made it seem weird enough at night. From the lake you could pole a boat into this marsh, but not all the way to the base of the cliff. Sometimes, after heavy or prolonged rains, the marsh would be entirely submerged, but usually it was visible as a rank and vivid green area with patches of scum. The cabin on the brow of the cliff had been built for the accommodation of certain scout activities which had been conducted there. Close to the edge was a rather odd contrivance, conspicuous from the lake below, and newcomers seldom failed to ask about its purpose, though now in its time of disuse and comparative dilapidation, few took the trouble to ascend the hill and view it at close range. This was a square wooden frame about eight or ten feet in size, standing upright and held by means of braces in the ground. It was loose and rickety from the force of heavy winds. Stretched in this was a sheet of canvas, bound to the frame with windings of light rope, by which it could be tightened. The canvas came to within a few inches of the frame all the way round. [Illustration: Map of Scout camp and surrounding country] This affair was known as a signal easel and had been used for practice in signalling. Illuminated at night by a bonfire at a safe distance in back of it the screen was as brilliant as the silver screen of the movies. Then a scout standing between it and the precipice was revealed in striking silhouette as he manipulated wigwag flags. From all the way across the lake he could be seen, a weird and vivid sight in the night time, and in this way codes were tried out and practiced. Once, on a memorable occasion, that redoubtable showman, Pee-wee Harris, had given a motion picture exhibit here with his prize outfit at the appallingly low admission fee of ten cents. But there being no gate, the place was overrun by deadheads and the exhibition ended in a riot.