“Hear you’ve put another over on us. Say, Hal, put us wise to that private preserve of yours, will you?” called the irrepressible Billy.
“Do a little scouting and find one for yourself,” retorted Hal, passing on up the trail.
“I have it! We will do a little scouting. We’ll trail him ’til we find out where he gets those big fish. What do you say, fellows?”
“That we’ll do nothing of the kind.”
The words were spoken quietly, but with a note of authority and finality that admitted of no contradiction. The boys turned to find Woodhull in their midst. Unseen he had come up just in time to hear Billy’s last words. They all saluted the chief, and then Billy, who never was known to let the chance for an argument pass, took up the subject again.
“Why not, Louis?” he demanded. “I thought it was a Scout’s duty to always keep on the trail of an enemy.”
“Meaning whom?” asked Woodhull.
“Why, Harrison, of course. Isn’t he a Seneca, and aren’t the Senecas the enemies of the Delawares?”
“Wrong again, Billy,” responded the chief. “The Senecas are rivals, not enemies of the Delawares, and we are going to beat ’em to it in fair and open contest—if we can. But they are brother Scouts, members of Woodcraft Camp as we are. Just pin that in your hat. Of all contemptible beings the most contemptible is a spy, save in actual warfare. No, my son, if Hal has been smart enough to beat us all at locating the hiding-places of big fish he is entitled to the honors. Put your powers as a Scout to work and find the fish for yourself, my son; but no spying on fellow Scouts.
“Tug, suppose you take Upton out to the swimming raft and try him out. You know the Hurons drew a prize in Hampton, who came in last week. Billy, I’ve got a bit of surveying to do on the Little Knob trail, and I need a rod man. Are you on?”