Andy winked at Don. Don clutched the assistant patrol leader's arm and squeezed hard.
Tim made lively work of the next half-mile. The relief found Bobbie Brown gasping and wilted.
"Gee!" said Tim; "you're packing too heavy a load for a runt. Here, I'll take your blanket."
Bobbie straightened his shoulders. "I'm all right. I—"
"Aw! forget it." Tim turned him around, unstrapped the blanket, and stuck it under his arm. "Feels better, doesn't it?"
"Y-yes," said Bobbie.
Mr. Wall, coming down the line to watch for stragglers, saw what happened, smiled quietly, and went back to the head of the column.
After a time the jokes and the laughter stopped. They were approaching Lonesome Woods. Of course, this was going to be all kinds of fun, but—but—Well, Lonesome Woods was Lonesome Woods, wasn't it? A mile from camp Mr. Wall halted the column.
"Volunteers to go forward and cut firewood," he called.
But though the scouts might draw together a bit, here was too good an adventure to be missed. There was a rush for the Scoutmaster. Tim got there first.