A few minutes later he had almost reached them. They heard the whir of his chain and looked back. Then they stopped.
"It's only Don," Tim said carelessly.
Ritter shrank back as though he wanted to hide.
Up to this point Don had thought only of overtaking the hikers. Now he was face to face with the problem of what he should say to them. He laid his bicycle at the side of the road and advanced with fast-beating heart.
"How many of you scouts told Mr. Wall you were going on this trip?" he demanded.
"Wasn't necessary," Tim answered promptly. "Mr. Wall didn't say we couldn't go."
"Mr. Wall didn't expect that any scout would go."
"How do you know what Mr. Wall expected? Did he tell you?"
It was a losing argument. Don could see the other scouts looking at Tim and nodding their heads as though agreeing with his logic—all except Ritter, who was looking at the ground.
Don's mind worked feverishly. They were scouts. They were breaking the scout law that said that a scout was trustworthy. He tried to grasp words that would make them feel what he felt, but the words would not come.