"That's what I was saying to Elmer," echoed Larry Billings.
"Oh! well, you never can tell," laughed the leader. "I sometimes think none of us know just what Matt Tubbs might do, if once he took a notion to turn over a new leaf."
"Oh! he's just a regular bully, and that's all there is about it!" cried Nat Scott.
"I hope you won't say that again, Nat," remarked Elmer. "I know on the face of things people around Hickory Ridge think that, because Matt always started trouble when the two towns used to be rivals on the gridiron and the diamond. But over in Fairfield, fellows, they're not quite so sure about it. Perhaps all of you don't know that when a house burned down, and the firemen were afraid to rush in to save an old and infirm woman who was known to be inside, Matt Tubbs took his life in his hands and got her out! It was his own grandmother, but that makes no difference. I say that the fellow who would do that can't be all wrong; that he must have a spark, and a pretty big one, too, of decency in his make-up. Those are just the kind of fellows this scout movement can help. And I believe that if once they change about and face the other way, they're bound to make the best of scouts. Let's give Matt Tubbs a fair and square chance to make good!"
Considerable talk followed. Some of the boys were farsighted enough to grasp what Elmer believed so firmly. Others shook their heads in doubt. They fancied they knew Matt Tubbs like a book. He was no coward, they admitted such a fact, but as for him ever being able to subscribe to the twelve cardinal principles of a scout, why it was absurd; impossible!
"Water will run up-hill before that miracle ever happens!" declared Toby Jones, the boy who was forever dreaming about doing wonderful stunts with a flying machine which he expected some day to invent.
"I have no particular use foh the gentleman, suh!" remarked Chatz Maxfield, whose manners and ways of expressing himself easily betrayed his Southern birth.
So the meeting progressed, and was finally brought to a conclusion. Then there was considerable merriment as the scouts clustered about "Lil Artha," the official photographer, as he passed around some scores of splendidly executed prints. Quite a number of these were gems of art, and represented natural scenery around the mountain lake where the camp had been located. Others elicited roars of laughter, for Arthur had snapped off some pictures that perpetuated scenes of a comical nature.
The boys were enjoying the treat heartily, laughing, bandying remarks, poking fun at the victims who were now held up to public view, and mingling with perfect freedom, as the meeting had been adjourned, when something certainly not down on the bills came to pass.
It was as unexpected as a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. The photographer of the troop was gathering his pictures together, and those members who had kindly furnished the lanterns so that their temporary meeting-place might be illuminated in a seemly manner, were starting to secure their property, when, without any warning, there sounded a tremendous crash.