“And it’s pretty nearly decided I hear, that the Black Bear Patrol takes a long hike the first thing after school closes,” Carl was saying, as they started down the river road into Lenox.
“Ten days in camp or knocking about will do more to make us seasoned scouts than as many months at home,” ventured Tom, knowingly.
“All the difference between theory and practice you mean,” added Carl. ”On my own part I don’t care how soon we get started. I’ve a whole lot of things written down to be attended to, once we get away from civilization. That long list Mr. Witherspoon gave me I’ve made up a name for.”
“What is it, then?” asked Tom.
“Things for a Tenderfoot Scout to Look for on His First Visit to the Storehouse of Nature. What do you think of the title, Tom?”
“A pretty long one, it strikes me,” answered the other; “but it covers the ground. Every one of us must have a copy, and it’ll be a lot of fun to find out who’ll be the first to answer all those questions.”
“One thing I hope will happen before we start out on that hike,” said Carl.
“Of course you’re referring to that paper again, and I don’t blame you a bit. We’ll do our level best to get hold of it before then,” and trying as well as he knew how to buoy up the drooping spirits of the disappointed chum Tom locked arms with him, and in this fashion they walked home.
The days again drifted along into weeks.
Scout matters were looking up decidedly in Lenox. There was even some talk of a second rival organization among another set of boys, though Mr. Witherspoon gave it as his opinion that nothing could ever be done with such a wild crowd.