The day that Glen finished his work was very hot. He had been working hard in the hope of completing the job by nightfall and was wet and grimy with perspiration and dirt. As he carried an armful of stalks to the shock he noticed a boy standing there dressed in a khaki uniform of olive drab.
"Wouldn't you like a little help?" asked the boy.
"I could use some," said Glen. "But I have only one knife."
"You rest, then, and let me use it awhile. I know how to cut corn."
"You'll spoil your pretty suit."
"This kind doesn't spoil. It's a scout uniform."
"Perhaps it won't spoil for as long as you'll work," said Glen. "What are you doing here?"
"We have a camp around the other side of the Mound. We only came yesterday or you would have seen some of us before now."
He was cutting cornstalks with a practised hand and Glen decided that he could trust him.
"You can go ahead for awhile. I'll go over and see what my partner says," he agreed.