The great yellow moon of the night before had turned ghastly pale, and in its place rose the morning sun. It was a glorious June day, and already several boats had been put out from camp to do a little before-breakfast bass fishing.

Vincent awoke with a start and sat up. He had been dreaming of evading a gang of rowdies, of whom Dale Worth was leader. Surely he had heard Dale's voice outside. He rubbed his eyes and listened.

"Thunderation! Why do they have to lock all the boats at night? Nobody's going to steal them," complained Dale, as he passed Tent One accompanied by Durbin. They stopped a moment at the pump to drink, then went to the boats.

"You get me a pair of oars," suggested Dale.

"Not on your life, boy. I'm not your servant," replied Durbin. "Get your own oars, like all the rest of us do. You're able-bodied, aren't you?"

Dale placed his rod and bait in a boat and sullenly started back toward the locker house with Durbin. Vincent watched them disappear inside. Like a flash he rolled out of bed and fairly flew to Dale's boat, snatched up the can of worms, and was back again in a second. He was sure they had not seen him.

Meanwhile Bill Ruthford and Studley came down the tent street and joined the others at the locker-house.

"What's the weather signs, Durbin?" asked Studley. Durbin laughed, surveyed the lake and the sky, then replied with a good-natured chuckle:

"Love saw the whole order of beetles last night as we sat by the fire, and the old saying goes: 'When at night the beetles play, To-morrow will be a glorious day.'"

They all moved toward the boats laughing and joking, and in another instant they were paddling away to the fishing grounds of their choice.

Vincent laughed to himself. "I'll bet the fish are biting great this morning, too. Hard luck, Dale, old scout. You'll have to come back without even a nibble." With that he stepped noiselessly out of the rear of the tent and set the can of worms on the steps of the locker-house, then slipped back to bed. Dale was heading straight across the lake, and Vincent knew it would be some time before he discovered that he had no bait.

He had nearly dozed back to sleep again when he heard a boat bump unceremoniously into the pier. He looked out and saw Dale throw his oars disgustedly on to the sand, then climb out of his boat. Vincent lay down again and pretended he was asleep. It was well he did, for Dale came straight around under the bunks. After satisfying himself that the bait was not there, he turned and went into his own tent, and Vincent saw no more of him till breakfast time.

Reveille broke on the morning air, and in a moment the beach was fairly swimming with naked figures of every size and build; some as brown as berries, some all tender with sunburned arms and shoulders, and some still white. When the "All In" signal came there was a joyous shout, a splash, and every figure disappeared in the water, only to appear again sputtering and spitting, with teeth a-chatter. Next came a hasty rub-down; then they dressed. Here and there a lazy fellow peeped out from under his covers and , with yawns and stretches, injured the time of day.

All of the washbasins near the pump were being pressed into service, while here and there a fellow could be seen peering into a small mirror, fastened up on a tree, and combing a woolly head. The Twins had discarded their shoes and stockings, so were about the first campers to be dressed. They sat down to watch the others make their hasty toilets.

"You kids kind of gave them the slip last night, didn't you?" laughed Studley, to which the Twins just smiled.

"Gee, your brother was scared to death," broke in Jimmie Vanden.

"What was all that rumpus about last night, anyway?" asked the "dean" in mock anger. "You kids wouldn't let a fellow get a decent sleep on a bet, would you? You better not let the 'chief' catch you at any such tom-foolery, or he'll have you on the carpet."

"Just then 'Love' arrived with a gorgeous moth held firmly between his fingers.

"Mr. Verne, what order does this belong to? I'm so mixed about bugs and things that I'm out of order myself." Then he giggled and looked around at the crowd. The 'dean' was just beginning a very learned and scientific discourse on the subject of moths when the last bell rang and there was a wild scamper up the hill, for colors or late to any meal, he lost his meal, and that was a very serious thing for any live and active boy.

On top of the hill, just in front of the lodge, the line was forming. Porter and Longley already had the big flag snapped to the halyards, and 'Shrimp' Warren, who was the official bugler, was awaiting the flying of the colors before blowing his bugle. Mr. Blaine was officer of the day and gave the commands. The long line straightened, came to attention, then all together they gave the salute. In clear, cheery tones it rang out.

"I give my head, my hand, and my heart to my country. One god, one Nation, one Flag." The banner was pulled up the pole and spread itself to the morning breeze.

Breakfast was just like the other camp meals, a joyous time of chatter and fun. The Twins found their popularity growing, much to the disgust of Dale, who took a long telling what he thought of fellows "that would sneak out of a little midnight joy." Vincent waited for him to say something about the missing bait-can, but of that he said never a word.

The brief morning devotion was held out on the hillside, under the giant oaks, and was the real beginning of activities for the day. Just following it came the period when the camp work was detailed to the different tents to be done. Every camper knew that he would have some simple task to do every day, and was always eager to learn what it was to be. This work, under the direction of the leaders, pleasant and much enjoyed as a usual thing. Occasionally some boy who happened to be a little out of sorts would light his duty; then the Camp Council, that powerfully efficient body elected by the campers for the campers, always found the culprit and meted out to him a fair and honest punishment. The government was excellent, for every councilman was liable to the council, and upon more that one occasion the campers' power of recall had saved the day and given the entire satisfaction to the majority. The 'chief' always assigned the detail of work and added brief comments by way of explanations.

"Tent One will replenish the supply of fire-wood in the lodge and kitchen. Tent Two will build the evening camp-fire, not too big a one, fellow, but a substantial one. Tent Three will sweep the dining room and porch. Tent Four will repair and line the baseball diamond. Tent Five will clean the boats. Tent Six will send one man to each tent to help in their regular detail. The remaining two boys of Tent Six empty the trash cans, and be sure to burn their contents."

"Don't forget the morning swim at eleven, and you boys that are being tutored, don't fail to meet Mr. Verne at the university at nine." He pointed his finger down to the white tent pitched back in a quiet, secluded spot on the shore of Little Corey.

The leader in Six detailed his men as ordered, and as luck would have it, Dale was sent to aid Tent One in getting the wood. Mr. Verne was called to the office for something, and turned his command over to Vincent. Dale promptly refused positively and determinedly to take orders from "such a little snipe." Instead of bringing in the smaller wood for the kitchen, as was necessary, he brought in an armful of great knotty chunks and tossed them carelessly behind the stove. The cook saw the spirit in which Dale was doing his duty, and knowing it was contrary to all good camp spirit, he took the matter into his own hands.

"Now you jes look heah, sonnie. Don't you get too gay, or you an' me's goin' ter have a jamboree right off quick," he said.

"How many bosses has this gang got, anyway?" hotly replied Dale.

"All it needs to make fresh young 'uns like you act proper," came the prompt reply. There were one, two, three hurried steps, and the next instant a big black hand had Dale by the lobe of the ear and was leading him toward the stove.

"Ise de boss in dis heah kitchen, an' I ain't got no mo' use fo' dem logs you jes' fiahed behin' de stove den you has."

Dale was too astonished to resist. The cook continued: "Now youse gathah up dem logs an' tote 'em out 'n heah; does ye heah me? Den stay out 'n dis kitchen yerself. Ah ain't got no time to be foolin' wid such a spoiled baby."

Dale's face fairly flamed with embarrassment. The other boys had heard. He hesitated, then did as he was told. When once he reached the open door he flung down the wood, picked up a shovel, and disappeared over the hill. The Twins without a word of complaint, did Dale's share of the work. As they left the kitchen, they were talking earnestly together.

"Mind you, don't say word about it to Mr. Verne," said Harold. "It won't do any good." The cook heard, and laughed to himself. "Dem kids is something like it," he said. "Regular good sports, both of 'em."

"Yes, they are a couple of the right sort of boys," agreed the 'chief.' "The difference, you see, is in their bringing up. The Bottings came from a well-regulated home with all its advantages. There being three of them, too, they have learned among themselves what unselfishness and loyalty is. But with poor Dale, it is different. He is the only boy of a wealthy father, and his mother has been dead since he was a baby. He has always done just as he pleased, and now the unselfish camp spirit of 'Other Fellow First' is hard on him. Sometimes I think he is absolutely hopeless, and at other times I find a good streak in him. There is one thing for certain, though, if this camp can't find the good that is in Dale, nothing can; and here is hoping. I hate to be disappointed in a boy."

Dale had gone from his work to dig more bait, and was just returning. As he passed the open door, he heard the last sentence of the 'chief's' remark and wondered who he meant. Some way he felt guilty; so, avoiding the 'chief,' he got into a boat and paddled away alone.

Eleven o'clock found the beach lined with campers in their bathing-suits, awaiting the "All In" signal. The Twins were sitting on the extreme end of the springboard, dangling their feet in the water. They had not yet learned that it was a serious offense to sit on the springboard, especially out past the spring. But they were to learn that shortly.

Dale landed, and held up his string of fish. He had had good luck and was in high spirits. As he was placing his fish in a bucket he noticed the Twins on the springboard. He looked around, and seeing some of his friends, he held a whispered conversation with them. They were to make a dash for the pier, grab the Twins, and toss them into the lake for sitting on the springboard - and for cheating them of their fun the night before.

"One, two, three!" called out Dale, as they swooped down on the Twins, who had hardly time to get to their feet before the gang was upon them.

"Into the lake with the little snipes!" shouted Dale. "We'll teach them to sit on the springboard."

The Twins took in the situation at a glance, and stood on guard.

"Tackle low," whispered Harold, as he flung himself at Dale's legs. The attacking party had not expected any opposition. Before they knew it, Dale and Harold were rolling on the pier. Dale was helpless, held by both legs. He struck madly, but Harold was too small and too quick for him. Suddenly Harold released his hold on Dale, and Dale slipped over the edge and into the water. A howl of laughter went up from the gathered crowd. The "All In" signal rang out above the tumult, and in another instant the Twins had dived from sight, coming up some little distance from the crowd.

"That's one on you, Dale," shouted "Shrimp" from the shore.

"And-a are your clothes wet, Dale?" called Bill, who was just as pleased with the incident as if it had happened in the dead of night and under the most mysterious circumstances. "And-a Dale is some duck," he chuckled to the fellows. "Just look at his webbed feet."

Dale was seated on the pier, pulling off his water-soaked shoes and stockings.

"Never you mind," he threatened. "I'm going to clean up on this whole blamed place one of these days, then skip. You're a regular bunch of yaps, all of you. You always get a fellow into a mess, as doublefaced as the town clock. I'll bet it was you that stole my bait this morning. I'll get you, you see."

The crowd howled with delight.

"Hey you fellows, let up!" called Mr. Cooper from the top of the chute-the-chutes. "Dale, go to your tent and change your wet clothes. What are you doing in the water with them on, anyway?" which was followed by a second spasm of laughter.

That morning the Twins successfully passed the rowing test and swam their two hundred yards, and were happy with the prospect of winning their Brown Rags.

"We're going off into the woods this afternoon to try lighting our fires," called 'Love' just after dinner. "Come on and go along." He began to make signs, first putting his fingers into his mouth, then rubbing his stomach with apparent satisfaction.

"What does he mean?" asked Vincent of Harold.

"O, I know," replied Harold. "He means they are going to find something to eat. Let's go." So off they trotted to join the crowd.

Some way supper didn't taste as good as usual that evening, at least to the Twins, for they had eaten up no less than three pints apiece of big ripe dewberries.

The ball game was slow that evening, for everyone was tired. Even the camp-fire held nothing new, except that 'Love' captured a rare imperial moth that was flitting about in the firelight and learned its order and scientific name, much to his satisfaction.

The fellows were lined up ready for the evening dip. Mr. Cooper was not on hand, so Jimmie took command and gave the signal. There was the usual splash and shout, then there was a patter of bare feet on the pier. A naked figure struck the end of the long springboard, rose in the air and was gone. Someone had dived off the springboard into the deep water in the dark. Jimmie was frightened, and in another second he was at the end of the pier, looking out over the water. He saw nothing. Every swimmer seemed to be inside the rope where he belonged. Never had a day passed but the boys had been warned of the danger of just such a thing, and had been told time and time again that the evening dip was a dip only, and not a swim. Jimmie was so frightened that cold shivers ran up and down his naked back. He peered out into the darkness, then called with all his might for Mr. Cooper, who came running from his tent to see what was the matter.

"Someone dived off the springboard into the deep water, and he didn't come up. What shall we do?"

"He must have come up," replied Cooper; but to think was to act with him. He put his hands to his mouth and called, "All Out!" in a voice that was instantly obeyed.

"Line up quick!" The boys obeyed like machinery, for they knew promptness was important just then. He hurried down the line, taking note of every fellow as he passed. He was so accustomed to keeping track of each boy while they were in swimming that he felt sure he would know who was missing. He came to the end. Every boy in camp was there. He was puzzled. Then his clear voice rang out:

"Who dived from that springboard just a moment ago and swam back to the rope under water?" There was no reply. "Did some one misunderstand me?"

He fairly thundered out the words. The excitement of the moment before was expressing itself in his quivering body. "I want to know what boy jumped from the springboard a moment ago?" The boys looked inquiringly at one another. They were unaware that such a thing had happened. A long minute passed, during which the only sound was the chatter of teeth and the quick breathing of the wet boys.

"I want to -" but he got no further. Dale Worth stepped out of the line with a sheepish "I did, sir."

"Just as I thought," exclaimed Mr. Cooper, disgustedly.

"Now go to your bunks, all of you." The line broke, and in a second there was a wild chatter of excitement.

One of the fundamental laws of the camp had been broken. What would be the result? There were as many different opinions as there were boys, and much speculating.

Mr. Cooper, the 'chief' and Mr. Blaine held a long conference, then the three moved off to Tent One. In earnest tones, the 'chief' explained the seriousness of the affair.

"We can't have fools in a camp like this," said he, "for we are just as responsible for their safety as for that of you sensible fellows. Suppose that boy had never come up, out there in the dark. Suppose he had cramped. Could any one have heard him in that deafening noise? He would have drowned, that is all. Now, if there is any fellow in this tent who doesn't wish to live up to the simple rules we have here, we want him to go home."

So down the tent street they went, giving the same advice to each group. When they reached Tent Six, Dale got angry and aired his sentiments freely.

"Dale, you can live up to our rules or go home," said the 'chief'. If you are going to pull off many such stunts we don't want you here anyway." Dale was sullen and remained silent until the men had passed on to the next tent. Then he expressed his views in flowery language, concerning every one in general and some few men in particular.

It was a long time before quiet was secured that night, and it was a still longer time before at least one boy fell asleep.

"To-morrow I will pack up and go home," he said to himself. "I will not be called down before this bunch for a thing like that. I will show them who is my boss, and when I get home I will knock the camp on every side, for every hour of the day something is wrong." At last the hot, scalding tears began to come and he sobbed himself to sleep, thinking of the cruel world and the unkind people in it. No on cared for him, he was sure. Everybody hated him. He was no good anyway. How his lonely heart did ache for just one friendly word from some one. So he slipped off into a troubled sleep.