After the members of the Quarry Troop had viewed the municipal fireworks in front of Town Hall that night they gathered at headquarters to discuss the day's events before going home. But there was only one event to be discussed, and that was on the lips of every individual in town.
"By Jove, I called him a coward," said Bud Weir. "But if there's a fellow among us who has as much sand as he had—I—I—-well, by cracky, there isn't any."
"Well," said Bruce thoughtfully. "It's this way—ah—er—I mean— Aw, shucks, I can't express it the way I want to, but he surely didn't shirk the duty for which he was prepared. He told me this morning that lassoing cattle (roping he calls it) and riding horses is part of a day's work where he comes from."
"I don't care if he is skittish about machinery," said Romper Ryan emphatically, "I'm going to see that Dick Austin becomes a scout before he leaves Woodbridge; he's the kind of a chap we need."
CHAPTER XII
THE SCOUT LIFE GUARDS' BEACH PATROL
Bruce and two companions, Romper Ryan and Jiminy Gordon, were passing the Post Office just as Morton McCabe, the little old man who delivered mail in the southern district of Woodbridge, came down the broad stone steps.
"How are you, Mr. McCabe?" saluted Bruce.
"Hello, boys; fine, fine, thanks. Say, did you get your letter?" said the diminutive postman, Who always talked very fast and tried to crowd as many sentences as he could into a single breath.
"Letter?" demanded Bruce, "what letter?"