“’Cause it suits us. What you goin’ to do ’bout it?”
“Nothin’,” answered Connie. “March where you like. But, when you’ve laughed yourself sick I wish you’d read this. It’s great,” and he handed Hank his own new manual. “It’s a present,” he added.
“What you givin’ it to me fur?” asked the puzzled Hank.
“’Cause I liked it and all our fellows do. I think you’ll like it too.”
Hank looked at it as if in much doubt. Then he opened it, by chance, at the picture of a camp scene with tents, camp fires, flagstaff, and picturesquely clad young scouts lying beneath tall, shady trees.
“Purty swell,” he commented slowly. “You guys goin’ to do that?”
“You bet,” answered Connie.
“I reckon we’ll have to visit you.”
“Sure,” responded the Wolf Leader. “We’ll have eats enough for all.”
With a half wistful look at Connie, but with no reply to this invitation, Hank turned and shambled away. He still held the open book in his hand and, the decorated gang crowding closely about him, without the sound of fife or drum and with Tony Cooper carrying the puppy in his arms, the lately defiant crowd moved down the street.