"Search _me_," said Roy; "tell riddles, I guess. If we had some ham we'd have some ham and eggs, if we only had some eggs. We should worry. It's going to rain for forty-eight hours and three months more. That's what that scout from Walla-Walla told me." "That's a dickens of a name for a city," said Westy Martin of Roy's patrol. "It's a nice place, they liked it so much they named it twice," Roy said. "There's a troop here all the way from Salt Lake," said Dorry Benton. "They ought to have plenty of pep," said Roy. "There's a troop came from Hoboken, too," Will Dawson observed. "I don't blame them," Roy said. "There's a troop coming from Kingston next week. They've got an Eagle Scout, I understand." "Don't you suppose I know that?" Pee-wee shouted. "Uncle Jeb had a letter from them yesterday; I saw it." "Was it in their own handwriting?" "What do you mean?" Pee-wee demanded disgustedly. "How can a troop have a handwriting?" "They must be very ignorant," Roy said. "Can you send an animal by mail?" "Sure you can't!" Pee-wee shouted. "That's where you're wrong," said Roy. "I got a letter with a seal on it." "Can you unscramble eggs?" Pee-wee demanded. "There you go, talking about eats again. Can't you wait two hours?" There was nothing to do but wait, and watch the drops as they pattered down on the lake. "This is the longest rain in history except the reign of Queen Elizabeth," Roy said. "If I ever meet Saint Swithin----" This sort of talk was a sample of life at Temple Camp for seven days past. Those who were not given to jollying and banter had fallen back on checkers and dominos and other wild sports. A few of the more adventurous and reckless made birchbark ornaments, while those who were in utter despair for something to do wrote letters home. Several dauntless spirits had braved the rain to catch some fish, but the fish, themselves disgusted, stayed down at the bottom of the lake, out of the wet, as Roy said. It was so wet that even the turtles wouldn't come out without umbrellas. Rain, rain, rain. It flowed off the pavilion roof like a waterfall. It shrunk tent canvas which pulled on the ropes and lifted the pegs out of the soggy ground. It buried the roads in mud. Hour in and hour out the scouts sat along the back of the deep veranda, beguiling their enforced leisure with banter and riddles and camp gossip. On Friday afternoon a brisk wind arose and blew the rain sideways so that most of the scouts withdrew from their last entrenchment and went inside. You have to take off your hat to a rain which can drive a scout in out of the open. It began blowing in across the veranda in fitful little gusts and within an hour the wind had lashed itself into a gale. A few of the hardier spirits, including Roy, held their ground on the veranda, squeezing back against the shingled side whenever an unusually severe gust assailed them.