Where on earth have you been and what has happened?
You look as pale as three ghosts." "Towed to sea by a shark--caught in a squall--almost run down by a liner--and so hungry we can't talk now," sputtered out Tubby comprehensively.
"All right; come on up to the fire and get dried out and pitch into the grub." After such a meal as it may be imagined the young scouts indulged in, they told their whole yarn of their adventures to the listening Patrol.
A short time after they concluded--so long had it taken to relate everything and answer all questions--the mournful call of "Taps" sounded and it was time to turn in.

Little Digby alone, who was to do sentry service, remained on duty.
Merritt's dreams were a strange jumble.

It seemed to him that he was being towed to sea on the back of a huge shark, by a big liner with a row of blazing portholes that winked at him like facetious eyes.
Suddenly, just as it seem he was about to slip off the marine monster's slippery back, he thought he heard a loud cry of "Help, scouts!" So vivid was the dream and so real the cry that he awoke trembling, and listened intently while peering out through the tent flap.
There was no sound, however, but the ripple of the waves on the beach and the "hoot hoot" of an owl somewhere back in the woods on the island.
"Funny," mused the boy, as he turned over and dozed off again, "that certainly sounded loud enough to have been a real, sure enough call for help.".