"Sure us old 'uns keep powerful hearty in these parts, Mr Trematon. Thanks be, I be middlin'. These be the Scouts, eh? Likely lads they be, although I reckon as they bain't up to our Cornish lads, eh, Mr Trematon? Squire's man, Roger Penwith, he comed down to see I yesterday. Says 'e, 'Squire has written to say Mr Trematon's Scouts are a' comin' to Seal Island, and Squire wants 'em looked after prop'ly-like.' 'Trust I to do my part,' says I, and sure enow I have a-done. The _Pride of Polkerwyck_--you'll remember 'er, Mr Trematon--is at your sarvice, an' the three small craft as well; so when you'm ready to go over along, them boats is ready." "Thank you, Varco," said the Scoutmaster. "The sooner we get to the Island the better, for it is past sunset." "And Roger Penwith 'e 'as placed a load or two o' firewood close alongside the landin' place, Mr Trematon. Thought as 'ow you'd be wantin' it." "Good man, Mr Penwith!" ejaculated Mr Trematon. "We can find a place to store this cart, I suppose?" "Sure there'll be a sight of room in yon hut," replied the fisherman. "Unload the trek-cart, lads," ordered the Scoutmaster. "Keep each patrol's belongings apart. Atherton, will you take charge of one boat; Simpson, another; load the heavy gear into the third boat, and Phillips and Green will assist me in taking her across." Hither and thither the Scouts ran, each with a set purpose, while the on-lookers watched with admiration as the baggage was unloaded and the trek-cart bundled at the double into the hut. "Have you a key to the door, Mr Varco?" asked Everest, with characteristic caution, after the cart had been housed. "Key, young man? What do 'e want wi' a key for, might I make so bold as to ax? Sure, us be all honest men in these parts," said Varco, in a tone of mingled reproof and pride. At length the three boats were manned, and the Scoutmaster gave the word to push off and give way. Thanks to his early training Mr Trematon was thoroughly at home both on and in the water, and he had developed particular pains to instruct his lads in the art of managing a boat, till the style of the Collingwood College Scouts on the Highgate Pond became a subject of envy to most of the other troops in the district. It was a ripping row. The only fault that the Scouts had to find was that it was far too short. The water was as calm as a mill-pond, although a faint roar betokened the presence of the customary ground-swell on the shore beyond the bay. The Scouts landed in a sandy cove in the south-eastern side of the Island, where a winding footpath, that showed little signs of frequent image, wound its way up in a zig-zag fashion to the higher ground. The baggage was carried ashore, and the lads, having secured the boats' painters, prepared to convey their goods to the camping-place. "You are not going to leave the boats like that, are you?" asked Mr Trematon.