"No, the colonel didn't say that," explained Jack, as he landed a
good-sized perch in the bottom of the boat, "there's one for luck.
That was a comment of my own. Wait until I put a fresh bait on and
I will tell you what he did say. He said—"
"Hurrah, I've got one!" interjected Pepper, pulling in his line and landing another fish.
"Why, that's the same thing he didn't say before," commented Donald, referring to the colonel.
"He said—" began Jack again, but the fish were now biting freely and the boys were so busy pulling them in that, for a time, they quite forgot the colonel and what it was that he said.
"If you haven't forgotten," began Donald, a little later, when there came a lull in the biting, "I would like to know just what it was that the colonel did say."
"Why, he said," resumed Jack, "that he wanted us to form a patrol."
"A patrol!" repeated Donald. "For what? Ain't there enough police?"
"This isn't a police patrol," laughed Jack, "this is a patrol in the Boy Scouts. It's a company of from six to eight boys. Two or more patrols form a troop under a scoutmaster who teaches them a lot of things."
"What kind of things?" asked Pepper.
"All kinds of things about woodcraft and how to hunt and fish and follow trails and camp out and—and—all the rest of it."