It was fortunate for his disturbed and rather sullen state of mind that an unusual diversion was on the boards at camp. The Ravens’ tent was quite deserted; Mr. Ellsworth was in his own tent, busily writing, and he called out cordially, “Hello, Tommy,” as Tom passed on to the Silver Foxes’ tent.

Within Roy was standing on a box holding forth to the entire patrol, and he was in that mood which never failed to fascinate Tom.

“Sit down; you get two slaps on the wrist for being late,” said he. This was the only reference he or any of them made to Tom’s disappearance at Five Oaks. A scout is tactful. “I don’t see any seat,” Tom said.

“Get up and give Tom a seat,” ordered Roy.

I wouldn’t get up and give President Wilson a seat,” announced Eddie Ingram.

“Not me,” laughed Dorry Benton, “I stalked for six miles to-day.”

“Get up and give Mr. Thomas Slade a seat, somebody,” shouted Roy.

“Keep still, you’ll wake the baby,” said Westy.

“You wouldn’t catch me getting up to give George Washington a seat,” said Bert Collins, “not after that hike.”

“I’ll make them get up,” said Roy, fumbling in his pocket.