“You’re awful good to do this for Joe and me,” said Mrs. Clark.
“Oh, that’s what scouts are for,” Tom declared. “Some of us are going to come around every day and ’tend to things, so old Joey can mind the doctor, aren’t we, fellows?”
“Sure thing.”
“Ra-ther.”
“You bet.”
“Say, Spider,” Walter Howard suggested, “you ought to call a scout meeting and get everybody in on this—divide it up so one scout comes every day for a week on his way home from school. Why, old Joe’ll be well again before we’ve all had a turn!”
“That’s what I’m going to do, Walt, Tuesday night. Pass the word along.”
“I know what my old man’s goin’ to say,” Bob remarked.
“Well, what’s he goin’ to say? Spring it.”
“He’s goin’ to say, ‘If you boys were asked to split kindlings for your own mothers every day, you’d put up an awful holler.’”