As their spirits revived, some one discovered that he must have food. Others became suddenly as hungry. It was after twelve o’clock but despite the cooler atmosphere the cheery camp fire seemed to turn the crowd into Indians. With yells and posturing the scouts marched and danced about the crackling flames. Connie joined in and when the old sycamore grove began to resound with war whoops of defiance and vengeance the leader lost his sense of discipline and ordered out the big pot of beans baking overnight in a hole beneath the camp fire.
“Who cares?” he shouted. “It’s our last night in camp. To-night we’ll merry, merry be an’ to-morrow we’ll go hungry.”
Just before two o’clock in the morning, satisfied that there was no more to be feared from the enemy, after the camp fire had been smothered, thirteen happy boys wrapped themselves in their blankets and only an empty bean pot told of the midnight revel.
A telephone message from the nearest farm house at seven o’clock the next morning to Mr. Trevor resulted in the arrival of old man Bristow’s dray at the camp about noon. Everything eatable on hand was prepared for dinner, and camp was struck about two o’clock and a last swim taken. In the midst of this, out of curiosity Art and Colly crossed the creek and made a daylight tour of the willow swamp.
There seemed nothing alarming about the place in the sunlight and its wildest portions were penetrated with ease. A sudden yell from Colly startled the boys in the creek. And when he came rushing out of the willow wilderness with the lost patrol flag in his waving hand, another naked war dance was held on a sand bar in the creek.
“Carrots lost it,” yelled Colly. “He dropped it. I reckon we was purty close to him.”
Connie sprang forward and grabbed the pennant. The corners were torn but otherwise the emblem was intact.
“An’ just for that,” exclaimed the young leader, “we’ll carry our flagpole back to town; pole, flag, pulley and cord.”
The adventure of the stolen horse and wagon had apparently aroused new feelings of enmity in every one of the Wolves. The old dray driver went on ahead to town and when the Wolves reached Scottsville at five o’clock, without a protest from Connie, with the lost and recovered pennant flying from the tall sapling, the patrol marched defiantly through the heart of Goosetown. Somewhat to the boys’ surprise, not one of the enemy was in sight. Leader Conyers, with lips set, even countermarched once through this section of the town. Not a boy appeared. As the cavalcade crossed the railroad the last time, some one caught sight of Tony Cooper. Tony had not been with the night raiders but he had a worried look. Connie called to him: