Benny and Fluff spent several hours during the afternoon with the lookout on the hill, and when Keeper Downey hove in sight the lad walked slowly toward the station, whispering to the dog in his arms: “It won’t do, Fluffy to rush right up the minute Mr. Downey gets back and ask to see the uniform; but I do hope it won’t be very long before he shows us what he has brought.” By the time Benny arrived at the boat-house door the keeper was mooring his dory, and a few moments later the lad saw him step ashore with a package in his arms so large that it hid at least half of his body from view. “He has really brought the clothes, Fluffy, and it oughtn’t to be such a dreadful while before we can look at them, because supper won’t be ready for two hours, and he’ll have nothing else to do except show all hands what the tailor has made.” Benny was not kept long in suspense. As Tom Downey approached the building he cried to the expectant lad: “Come into the mess-room, No. 8; I’ve brought home all your finery, and the crew will be wantin’ to see how you look in the uniform.” Benny answered the summons hastily, and Fluff ran at his heels barking shrilly, as if he had some personal interest in that which the keeper was carrying. With the exception of Robbins, who was acting as lookout, every member of the crew was awaiting Tom Downey’s arrival when he entered, looking particularly cheerful. “I’ve got all I went for, and a little besides,” he said, still holding the package in his arms. “What’s more, I haven’t taken advantage of you fellows by looking at the toggery. It was wrapped up when I got to the tailor’s, and beyond the little he told me, I know no more about what’s inside the paper than you do. Now I propose that Benny take this bundle, go up-stairs, put on the uniform, and dazzle us all by suddenly appearing as a full-fledged life-saver.” “That’s the way to fix it!” Sam Hardy cried enthusiastically. “Get along, No. 8, an’ don’t spend too much time primpin’, for we’re achin’ to get a sight of you in brass buttons.” Benny did as he was bidden, and a few moments after he had disappeared up the stairway those below heard an exclamation of astonishment, followed an instant later by the question: “What’s that other thing, Mr. Downey?” “The tailor said he’d put in something on his own account for Fluff. Try it on and send him down.” The crew were wholly at a loss to understand the meaning of this brief conversation until the dog came down-stairs at full speed, yelping and barking as if in the highest state of excitement and pleasure. A roar of laughter burst from the men when the little fellow sat up on his tail in the centre of the room, as if asking that he be admired. Over his silken white hair was strapped a tiny, blue broadcloth blanket, on the two rear corners of which was worked in white silk the letters “L. S. S.,” so disposed as to form a fanciful monogram.