Paul spoke as though he had made a study of the town bully, and knew his weak points, which was the actual truth.
"Why can't they let us alone?" grunted Jack, falling into step with his comrade, as they walked down the street. "We never think of bothering them; it's always the other way. They just like to act ugly about things; and it's worse since we won that banner for our troop. But you know they're intending to hike out up in the same quarter we've selected? That was done with a purpose too, Paul, mark me!"
"I'm afraid so," returned his comrade, slowly; "and just as like as not they expect to give us trouble while we're in camp. Well," and his voice took on a vein of determination that told how he was aroused at the thought of what might
happen; "there must be a limit to even the forbearance of a scout, you know; and if they push us too far, we will have to teach them a lesson!"
"That's the ticket, Paul. I can stand just so much of this being meek and forgiving; but it ain't in boy nature to keep it up everlastingly. Some fellows think it a big joke. And a sound licking will open their eyes better than soft soap. Ask William if that isn't so!"
"It's all to the good, I'm telling you, and that's no lie," observed the party in question, whom they found sitting on the fence adjoining the green fronting the handsome high school, and whom Jack had discovered at the time he was venting his views.
"Where's Bobolink?" demanded the leader.
"Oh! he was here a bit ago," returned William, who had always been considered ready to fight in the old days before the scout movement struck Stanhope; and who was loth to forsake his former ways, even while endeavoring to remain a member in good standing in the troop.
"But why didn't he stop with you? I told him to wait here," returned Paul.
"You see, we talked it over," explained William, "and got the notion that, as we didn't know how long you might be getting around, one of us had better begin to scratch gravel. So he drew