The stranger now advanced to the group of boys and gave them the half salute of the Boy Scouts, standing with right arm straight out from the shoulder, palm outward, three fingers standing vertical, the thumb crossing the palm to rest on the bent-in little finger. Ned replied with the full salute, which is made with the hand in the same attitude, only at the forehead.
“What does the badge say?” demanded Jimmie.
“Be prepared!” was the quick reply.
“For what?” was the next question.
“To assist those in distress.”
“You’re all right,” Jimmie shouted. “What patrol?”
“Chanticleer, Denver,” was the reply.
“That accounts for the way you lighted down from the mountain,” laughed Ned.
“I’ve got used to climbing in walking the streets of my home town,” smiled the other. “Is Ned Nestor here?” he added. “My name is Ernest Whipple; I’m looking for Mr. Ned Nestor.”
“Here he is, the only good-looker in the bunch,” Jack laughed, pushing Ned forward. “What do you want of him?”