“Who’s that hurrying this way, and waving his hat?” demanded Arthur. “Looks like Billy Worth—yes, there isn’t another fellow in the troop with his width.”
“And his capacity for making away with the grub when in camp, you want to add,” laughed Tom. “But he certainly looks excited, fellows. Listen to him giving the Wolf call, will you? I wonder if anything can have happened here in town since we started fishing this morning?”
The very idea quickened their footsteps, and in another minute they were joined by the stout lad with the jolly face, who was one of the original members of Oakvale Troop, as well as a staunch supporter and admirer of his patrol leader, Hugh Hardin.
“Billy the Wolf,” as Billy Worth was sometimes called, seemed to have been running, for he was a little short of breath.
“What’s all this mean, Billy?” asked Alec, with something of his old imperiousness, for once upon a time Alec had been of a domineering nature. “Tell us why you’re stopping us on the highway like this? Has there been a fire? Is the school burned to the ground? Anybody sick, a runaway happened, a child lost in the woods and the scouts needed to find it? Speak up, can’t you? and relieve this fierce strain.”
“Why, it’s this way, fellows,” said Billy, between gulps, “the Fair management has asked the Oakvale Scouts to pitch a tent on the grounds, show people how they live in camp, act as guides to strangers in town, meet trains at the station, set up an emergency cot in another tent where first aid to the injured can be found, and—and, pretty much run the whole business this year! What d’ye think of that now for a big honor to Oakvale Troop?”
CHAPTER II.
THE GREAT UNDERTAKING.
There was a brief interval after Billy had blurted out this astonishing news. The other three scouts stared at one another as though they could hardly grasp the full significance of the information.
Then, as if a signal had been given, every one of them dropped his fishpole and string of finny trophies, snatched off his hat, and, waving it above his head, let out a series of cheers.
A mule that had been feeding in a lot near by kicked up his heels and started galloping wildly about his enclosure, doubtless under the impression that war had been declared, and the initial battle begun. A stray cur, in the act of skulking past, sped furiously down the road, evidently believing that it could almost hear the clatter of a tin can tied to its tail, though of course, scouts are never guilty of such a cruel proceeding.