Half way back to town they saw a man in the distance riding toward them.
"Isn't that Mr. Wall?" Ritter asked anxiously.
It was Mr. Wall. Tim hurried up from the rear. He wanted to be where he could hear what was said when scouts and Scoutmaster met.
Mr. Wall seemed to be riding hard. Suddenly, as he saw them, his pace slackened.
"He's going to dismount," said Ritter.
"He's waiting for us," said the Eagle patrol scout.
Their steps unconsciously became slower, Don jumped from the bicycle and walked with them. He studied Mr. Wall's face. Did Mr. Wall know?
He had gone to the Scoutmaster's house that morning ready to tell. Now, though, he thought he faced a different situation. He was sure that the Danger Mountain hike had been blocked—not for today alone, but for all the days of the future. To bring it up again would be like trying to re-heat a stale pie.
He had faced the situation alone. By luck—he called the use he had made of Mr. Wall's absence a lucky stroke—he had conquered. What had happened had been among scouts. They had settled it among themselves. He felt, dimly, that a great lesson had been learned. Maybe it would be better to leave things as they were.
The Scoutmaster's greeting was cheery. "Hello there, hikers! How did you find the going?"