Pluck on the Long Trail; Or, Boy Scouts in the Rockies

by Edwin L. Sabin

"Both of you?"

"Yep."

"One isn't enough, in case you meet trouble. It's two on the trail, for us Scouts."

"I know it."

"And you'll take the flag? I want the Elks flag to go."

"We will," we said.

"To-morrow morning, then," and the major smiled a peaceful, happy little smile. "Bueno. Now I'll go to sleep. You needn't give me any dope. I'll see you off in the morning." And he sort of settled and closed his eyes. "When are you Red Foxes off?" he asked drowsily.

"Oh, we've arranged to be around here a day yet," drawled Van Sant. "You can't get rid of us. We want to hear that the message went through. Then we'll skip. We ought to rest one day in seven. And there's a two-pound trout in a hole here, Mrs. Harden says, and Hal thinks he can catch him to-morrow before I do."

"You mustn't miss that trip," murmured the major. And when we tiptoed out, leaving Fitz on guard, he was asleep already!

So it seemed that we had done the best thing.