"Nothing, now," said the general, huskily. "You don't give us a chance to do anything. You're a lot of cowards—tying us up and searching us, and taking our things."
"BILL DUANE WENT THROUGH HIM."
Then they laughed at us some more, and all jeered and made fun, and said that they would take the message through for us. I tell you, it was humiliating, to be bound that way, as prisoners, and to think that we had failed in our trust. As Scouts we had been no good—and I was to blame just because I had fallen asleep at my post.
They were beginning to quit laughing at us, and were starting to get supper, when suddenly I heard horse's hoofs, and down the bridle path that led along an edge of the park rode a man. He heard the noise and he saw us tied, I guess, for he came over.
"What's the matter here?" he asked.
The gang calmed down in a twinkling. They weren't so brash, now.
"Nothin'," said Bill.
"Who you got here? What's the rumpus?" he insisted.