tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">A GOOD NIGHT'S WORK

CHAPTER I

SIR SILAS DISAPPROVES

"Lads," exclaimed Scoutmaster Leslie Trematon, "I am sorry to announce a disappointment, but I trust you will receive the news like true Scouts and keep smiling."

The Scoutmaster paused to note the effect of his words. Practically every boy of the "Otter" and "Wolf" patrols knew what was coming, but one and all gave no sign of disgust at the shattering of their hopes. Two or three pursed their lips tightly, others set their jaws grimly, while a few looked at their comrades as if to gauge the state of their feelings on the matter.

"We must, I'm afraid, give up all hope of our Cornish trip and set our minds upon a fortnight's camp at or in the neighbourhood of Southend," continued Mr Trematon. "I had an idea, when I approached Sir Silas Gwinnear, that my application would be favourably considered, and that in less than a week's time you would be enjoying the pure bracing air of Seal Island. Unfortunately, Sir Silas does not see eye to eye with us. His opinion of Scouts in general is not a flattering one. Of course every man is entitled to his own opinion, but at the same time I sincerely trust that Sir Silas may be convinced that his estimate of the qualities of Scouts is inconsistent with facts. I would not hold your confidence if I did not read his letter to you. At the same time I feel sure you will make due allowances for the somewhat scathing strictures upon Boy Scouts in general."

Leslie Trematon, the third master of Collingwood College, was a tall, broad-shouldered muscular Cornishman of twenty-four years of age. He was just over six feet in height, his complexion was ruddy, though tanned by exposure to the sun, while his crisp, light brown hair and kindly blue eyes gave him a boyish appearance. He had been two years assistant master at Collingwood College, and, although a strict disciplinarian during school hours, was the idol of his scholars. Out of harness he was almost as one of them: full of spirit, keen on games, and sympathetic with lads who sought his confidence.

A little more than twelve months previously, Mr Trematon had raised four patrols of Scouts amongst the pupils of Collingwood College, and the troop was officially designated the 201st North London. Trematon saw possibilities in the Scout movement. His superior, the Rev. Septimus Kane, the dignified and somewhat old-fashioned Principal of the College, did not regard the newly raised Scouts in a favourable light. He set his face against new institutions; but, finally, on the Scoutmaster's representations he grudgingly consented to give the experiment a term's trial.

At the end of the first term he condescended to admit that the 201st Troop justified its existence. More recruits came in, and the school-games club flourished more than it had done before. Scouting went hand in hand with sport, and the Collingwood College football team attained a higher place in the junior league than it had since its formation.

The second term gave even better results. The whole school seemed infected with the spirit. There was more esprit de corps, the physical condition of the boys was decidedly on the improve, while the Midsummer Examination percentage of passes caused the Rev. Septimus to beam with satisfaction and the governors to bestow lavish praise upon their headmaster and his staff of assistants.

Even Monsieur Fardafet, the second French master, noticed the change in the boys' behaviour, and weeks went by without his having to complain to the Head about the conduct of certain irreconcilables who had hitherto been the worry and despair of his existence.

The fact was that the whole College was imbued with the principles of scoutcraft. Every boy realised that it was incumbent upon him to develop his individual character, and that it was impossible for his masters to confide in him if he failed to confide in them.

It had always been a strong point with the Rev. Septimus to impress upon his assistants the necessity of appealing to a boy's honour, but hitherto there had been a flaw in the working of the Head's scheme. The boys regarded any advance on their masters' part with suspicion. It was their firm belief that masters existed simply and solely for the purpose of driving in the dreary elements of knowledge. But when Mr Leslie Trematon arrived upon the scene matters began to improve, till, at the time our story opens, a state of harmony existed betwixt the masters and scholars of Collingwood College.

The number of patrols had now increased to ten. Of these the "Otters" and the "Wolves" were composed solely of boarder who, through various circumstances, were unable to spend their holidays in the home circle. Mr Trematon looked upon it as a pleasurable duty to give up a portion of his summer vacation to these two patrols, and, with this object in view, had approached Sir Silas Gwinnear to obtain his permission to have the use of Seal Island for a fortnight in August.

Sir Silas was a city magnate whose name was generally to the fore in every large commercial transaction that would bear close investigation. With the exception of a comparatively brief holiday, invariably spent on his large Cornish estate near Padstow, Sir Silas stuck closely to his business. He was a self-made man, whose wealth had been accumulated by sheer hard work and indomitable