"Oh, well, we just have to, you see, if we ever expect to make good scouts," he replied, thinking that after all Elsie was even a little prettier than her chum, when she chose to smile on a fellow that way. "And besides, we pick up a lot of information from our scout master, and Elmer, who knows all about woodcraft, because he lived out on the big plains. But it must be getting near time for the start, because they're lining up now. Let's push ahead so we can see what happens."
Despairing of getting away while the persistent little maid continued to seek information, Landy was now hedging, and content to carry her along with him as he pushed through the crowd of talking, laughing spectators.
The clock in the church tower pointed to two minutes of six. And at the first stroke of the hour they were expected to be off.
Six boys stood in line, eager and expectant. Their particular friends called out encouraging words, and there was a perfect babel of confusion about this time. But Mr. Garrabrant anticipating such a happening, had spoken the last words of caution. So that there was now nothing to be done but wait for the loud boom of the big clock in the tower.
"Good luck, Lil Artha!"
"Keep that good left foot of yours going right along, George!"
"Red, we're counting on you to win out, remember!"
"That's Ty Collins on the extreme left; just you watch his smoke!"
"Take it easy, Matty! You know the rules of the game, old fellow!"
"Jack, don't you ever come around again unless you bring that prize with you!"