“Soldiers an’ scouts. Reg’lar scouts,” volunteered Sammy Addington.
Hank passed his big, soiled hand over his mouth in perplexity. An envious look shone on his face.
“I wish’t I could see ’em,” he said embarrassed and pointing to the box.
“We’re goin’ to drill this evenin’,” said Connie. “We’d be glad to have you come over to my house ’bout four o’clock if you’d like to.”
Hank’s perplexity was now open astonishment. And the Elm Streeters showed little less.
“You don’t mean me an’ the gang?” exclaimed Hank at last.
“Sure,” answered Connie. “You ain’t goin’ to be in the way.”
The Elm Streeters almost gasped. A direct invitation from Elm Street to the Goosetowners to visit that exclusive locality! Art edged up to Connie and gave him a questioning look.
“Article four,” whispered Connie with a chuckle. “A Scout is a friend to all—”
“Sure,” exclaimed Art, conscience-stricken and turning to his late foe and rival. “Come over. Bygones is bygones.”