On July twenty-fifth, when the camp was in gala array for the big event, Wandering Willie walked over to the Archer farm. Standing on the same eminence where he had sullenly resolved to throw away the scarf pin which commemorated his one great exploit, he looked down upon the camp which was gay with pennants and streamers. The springboard which overhung the lake was festooned with bunting and the lantern-post looked like a stick of peppermint candy with its diagonal winding of red, white and blue. Far across the lake was a tiny area of color, indicating the spot where the swimmers would start for the swim to the camp shore. This annual event was not a race but a contest; he who swam across in the shortest time won the prize.
Wilfred took out his old opera-glass and scanned the lake. About in the center was a little patch of white which was always visible in windy weather. It was only just visible now. He had seen it before and knew it to mark the position of a hidden rock. Swimmers sat upon this concealed resting place sometimes and looked queer, as if they were sitting in the water. By reason of the surrounding mountains the lake was subject to sudden gusts and at such times the black water above the rock was churned into spray. The least dash of white was visible now, though the day bid fair to be mild and sunny.
Wilfred had often longed to swim out and sit upon that coy, retiring rock. It was a favorite spot and surely held no perils for swimmers and canoeists, there in the middle of this small lake. There must have been a crevice in that submerged mass, for some one had planted a stick there from which flew something white, which on scrutiny Wilfred saw to be a jacket. He thought it must have been put there to warn the swimmers against the temptation to rest a second at the spot.
As he approached the Archer farm, Wilfred unbuttoned his shirt and unfastened his precious five dollar bill which had been securely pinned. The safety-pin which had been used for this purpose was no more and he had lately fastened his little fortune in with his scarf pin. He had found it agreeable not to display this. As he looked at it now the opal seemed of a dozen varying hues and filled with fire. It seemed another stone than the one he had worn in the time of his trial and impending disgrace. What could that mean?
He was able now to do what he had always boasted he could do—fix his mind on what he was about, to the exclusion of all other things. And he looked forward to this good turn he was about to do with happy anticipation. He could not have stayed at camp that day. He paid Mr. Archer in advance and was glad to get the five dollar bill out of his possession; the custody of it had caused him much anxiety. As he drove leisurely along the quiet country road, his self-respect seemed to take a jump; he felt important, elated. The consciousness of the kindly business he was about exhilarated him.
It was midsummer, though the history of Wilfred’s ignominy at camp had the effect of making him feel that the summer was almost over. But the birds did not seem to think so, for they sang with a wealth of melody amid the thick foliage, and now and then a gray rabbit paused in the road, cocked its ears and went scurrying into the thicket. The lazy horse jogged along at his wonted gait, the old buggy creaked, and the steady sound of horse and carriage seemed a very part of Nature’s soothing chorus on that drowsy summer morning.
Pretty soon a deep, melodious horn sounded, and a big red touring car, resplendent in nickel trimmings, came around a bend. A chauffeur drove it, and in it sat a distinguished-looking, elderly man, a lady, and a young girl with a profusion of golden hair. The car bore a Jersey license. They must have started early or done some speeding to reach the festive scene of the big contest so early. The girl, being in the spirit of the day and thinking Wilfred a country boy, waved her hand to him, and the dishonored scout took off his hat as the ill-assorted vehicles passed.
At Terryville, old Pop Winters was waiting and his evident misgiving about the arrival of his y............