The Banner Boy Scouts

CHAPTER I

A MEETING IN THE BARN

"All here now, Paul!"

"Call the roll, somebody, won't you?"

"Keep quiet, fellows, please!"

"Shall I strike a match, Paul?"

"Not on your life, Bobolink. That crowd of Ted Slavin's is out, looking for us. Somebody must have leaked, or else Ted was tipped off. We've got to be mighty cautious, I tell you, if we want to give them the slip."

"S-s-say, d-d-don't you k-k-know we've got a fi-fine b-b-barn on our p-p-place, fellows?"

"For goodness sake; won't somebody please pound Bluff Shipley on the back, and make him bite his twisted tongue, so he can talk straight?" cried a pleading voice.

"Listen!"

There must have been a streak of authority in the tone used by Paul Morrison when he spoke this last word; every one of the other six boys crouched there, craning his neck, and listening to catch the unusual sound that had apparently reached the trained ears of their leader.

The woods surrounded the boys on all sides, gloomy, and full of mystifying noises.

Yet Paul knew full well just what every one of the sounds meant. An owl called mournfully to its mate from a hollow tree. Katydids and merry crickets added their shrill music to the chorus of that late summer night. Even a colony of tree frogs solemnly chanted their appeal for "more rain."

During the day just ended six fellows in the thriving town of Stanhope had received urgent telephone calls from Paul, who was an only son of the leading doctor in the place.

And each boy had promised to meet him at the Three Oaks by the time the clock in the church steeple had struck eight.

It was even now booming out the hour.

When the last stroke died away, the most impatient among the gathered boys moved restlessly.

"Follow me, fellows," said Paul, in a low, thrilling tone.

"Where are we heading for?" queried one, who had as yet failed to express his feelings in the matter.

This was Wallace Carberry, the sober member of the pair known far and wide as the Carberry Twins; his mate, William, being his exact counterpart in every particular, when he chose to repress the good-natured grin that usually marked his fate.

"To the Shipley barn; single file; and silence is the watchword!"

Paul Morrison had long enjoyed the confidence of his comrades in most matters pertaining to outdoor sports. A healthy lad, both in mind and body, he was never so happy as when studying the secrets of Nature in wood and meadow; or in playing any of the various strenuous games to which all boys with red blood in their veins are addicted.

And when he sent out his mysterious request that some of his most intimate friends meet him on this night, as he had a communication of importance to put up to them, the greatest curiosity made itself manifest.

Paul never suggested ordinary things. More than once he had engineered some game that brought honor and glory to the boys of Stanhope; and remembering these satisfactory "stunts" of old, it was no wonder these fellows had come to the place of meeting without a single exception.

With Bluff Shipley close upon the heels of the leader, and Robert Oliver Link, whose name had long since been corrupted into Bobolink, bringing up the rear, the seven lads trailed through the woods, following some path with which they were evidently more or less familiar.

Several times Paul gave a recognized signal that caused every one of the bunch to stop short, and turn his head on one side in the endeavor to discover whether hostile footsteps could be heard in their rear.

But although there were doubtless many rustling sounds, the boys laid these to the bright-eyed little denizens of that strip of woodland. Too often had they watched the chipmunks and red squirrels hunting for nuts under the already falling leaves, not to know that the forest was peopled with these harmless animals.

After five minutes more there loomed up before them the dark outlines of a huge barn that seemed rather out of place here on the border of the woods.

This belonged to the father of Bluff, who, being a prosperous tobacco grower in this valley, used the place to cure the product of his broad fields, after it had been harvested in the fall.

Paul had been carrying some sort of package in his hand, and the boys for some time amused themselves in guessing its nature. When he took off the paper it stood revealed as a lantern, ready for lighting.

"Show us the way inside, Bluff. Then we'll have a little light on the subject," remarked the leader, with a last anxious searching look around; as though he still entertained suspicions that their march to the old barn might have been observed by some of the hostile Slavin crowd.

Ted Slavin had long been known as the bully of Stanhope; for it seems that there never yet existed a village or town without some big chap exercising that privilege. He was a fighter, too, and able to hold his own against the best. Besides, Ted had shown some of the qualities that indicate a natural leader; though he held the allegiance of those who trailed after him mostly through fear, rather than any respect for his manly qualities.

His leading crony for the past year had been Ward Kenwood, son of the wealthy banker who was also a leading real estate owner in the place. Once upon a time Ward would have scorned the thought of associating with Slavin and his crowd; but an occasion had arisen whereby he had need of a strong arm to even up a score, and once he found himself indebted to Ted he kept on in the bully's company.

His rivalry in many fields with Paul had much to do with his throwing his fortunes in with the other fellows. And nothing pleased him more than to be able to upset any calculations the latter entertained. That explained why Paul was anxious to avoid a meeting with the Slavin crowd on this particular night, when he was brimming over with a great idea.

Once the boys had entered the barn, Bluff secured the door, after which a match was quickly lighted.

"Now, here we are, safe and sound, and not an enemy around. Suppose you open up, Paul, and get this load off our minds," said Albert Cypher, who seldom heard his own name among his friends, but was known far and wide as Nuthin'.

But what else could a lad expect who was so unfortunate as to find himself afflicted with such a name as A. Cypher?

"Yes, what's it all mean, Paul? You haven't even taken me in, you know, and I'm as much in the dark as the next fellow," remarked Jack Stormways, reproachfully; for being Paul's closest chum he might have expected to share his confidence.

"Wait a bit. We might as well make ourselves comfortable while we're about it. I'll sit down on this box, and the rest of you gather around on the floor. I've got a big proposition to make, and you want to listen carefully."

"T-t-take c-c-care of the lantern, f-f-fellows; my d-d-dad's w-w-wanting this old barn f-f-for his t-t-tobacco crop, and he'd b-b-be some put out if it b-b-burned just now!" came from Bluff.

Finding perches on various low piles of waste left over after the shipment of the last crop, the six lads gathered around Paul, eagerness stamped on every beaming face.

"Now, what's the idea that struck you this time, Paul?" demanded Bobolink.

"I'll tell you without any beating around the bush, fellows. The thought came to me that Stanhope was away behind the times. Other towns not nearly so big, have one or more troops of Boy Scouts. Why shouldn't we get up one here?" and Paul waited to hear what the response would be.

The six who sat in a ring looked at each other as though stunned by the proposal. It was strange, indeed, that no one had up to this time taken a lead in advancing such a thing.

"Bully idea, Paul!" ejaculated Jack, slapping a hand on his knee enthusiastically, as though it appealed to him most decidedly.

"Well, I declare, to think that nobody ever mentioned such a grand movement before. Count me in right from the start!" said Wallace Carberry—sober Wallace, who usually measured his words as though they were golden.

"And me too," observed Bobolink.

"Ditto for William!" called out the other Carberry Twin, grinning with delight.

"G-g-guess I'd make a bully good t-t-tenderfoot!"

"That's the best thing you ever thought up, old chap," came from Nuthin'.

"Hurrah! every county heard from, and not one contrary word. It looks as if there might be something doing right soon around this region," declared Paul, naturally pleased because his proposition had met with such unanimous satisfaction.

"Tell us more about it, please. I've read about the Boy Scouts; but my mother would take a fit if she thought I was practicing to become a soldier. You see, I had an older brother, who enlisted to go out with some of the boys when we had our little fuss about Cuba and the Philippines; and poor Frank died in camp of typhoid fever. I'll have a hard time winning her over, and the dad, too," remarked Bobolink, sadly.

"Well, that's where you make a big mistake, Bobolink. Over in England, where the Boy Scout movement started, it has some connection with the army, because there, you see, every fellow expects at some time to serve his country as a soldier, or on board a naval vessel. But here in America, the movement is one for peace."

"Then what's all the doings about?" asked Nuthin', as if puzzled.

"I know, and Paul is right about it," came from Wallace Carberry, always quite a reader of newspapers and magazines.

"Let him tell then. I'm for the game, no matter what it means," cried Bobolink.

"And I think Bluff knows something about it, for he said he would do for the lowest grade of scout, which is the tenderfoot. But I don't think any of you are qualified to take even that degree; for a tenderfoot must first be familiar with scout law, sign, salute, and know what his badge means; he must know about our national flag, and the usual forms of salute due to it; and be able to tie some seven or eight common knots. How about that, Bluff?"

"N-n-not guilty!" promptly answered the one addressed.

"Say, that sounds interesting any way. Tell us some more about this, Paul!" exclaimed William, always eager to hear of anything that smacked of novelty.

"Well, there are two more degrees a fellow can climb up to, a second-class scout, and a first-class scout, full fledged. After that, if he wants to keep right on there are merit badges to be won for excelling in angling, athletics, camping, cooking at the campfire, taxidermy, first aid to the injured, handicraft, life saving, path-finding, and a lot more."

"Now you've got me stuck on this new game," cried Bobolink, excitedly. "The more you explain the better I like the idea. Me for the Boy Scouts, fellows!"

"Hear! Hear! Paul, the idea is yours, and we vote unanimously that you occupy the exalted position of scout master—I know that every troop has to have such a head, and you're better fitted for the job than any fellow in town!"

"Yes," laughed Paul, "but unfortunately, I believe a scout master has to be over twenty-one years of age."

"Who knows the ways of the open like our Paul? He's the right man in the right place. Say, are there any books on the subject, that we can get, and learn more about this thing?" asked Wallace, who seemed to be particularly well pleased.

"I've already sent for a manual, and expect it by to-morrow; when we can find out all about it. But wishing to be posted when I put the question I went over the river to Aldine to-day, and saw some of the boys there who belong to the Scouts. They made me more anxious than ever to start a patrol in our home town."

"But I've seen something about a troop?" remarked Jack Stormways, who, Paul thought, seemed unusually sober for a boy ordinarily light-hearted.

"Yes, a troop takes in say, three local posts called patrols, each of which has eight members. It is known by a number, as Troop One of Boston; and each minor organization takes a name of some animal, such as wildcat or fox. If it is called Fox, every boy belonging to it is supposed to be able to bark like a fox, so as to be able to signal a comrade while scouting in the woods."

"Ginger! but that does sound interesting," declared William.

"It's j-j-just immense, that's w-w-what!" was Bluff's opinion.

"Listen! I heard a laugh as sure as anything!" exclaimed Paul, lifting a hand to indicate silence; and every one of the group assumed an attitude of expectancy.

As they waited there suddenly came a tremendous crash, as some object landed forcibly against the wooden side of the old barn. It was instantly followed by a second bang, and others came quick and fast, until the noise might be likened to a bombardment from a hostile battery.

"It's the Slavin crowd!" called Bobolink, excitedly jumping to his feet. "They followed us here after all, and have been listening to every word!"

"All hands to repel boarders!" shouted Paul; and with a cheer the seven boys rushed over to the door, out of which they sprang, bent on retaliating on their tormentors.

CHAPTER II

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A BOY SCOUT

"Where are the stone throwers?" shouted the merry member of the Carberry Twins, as he danced up and down, eagerly trying to discover some moving object in the surrounding darkness.

"Gone like smoke, I guess," laughed Paul, who had really expected something of this sort, judging from past experiences with these same tormentors.

"Look there, I can see something moving yonder. Get ready to give a volley!" cried Nuthin', pointing as he spoke.

"H-h-hold on, f-f-fellows, d-d-don't fire yet! It's only our old d-d-dun cow!" gasped Bluff, excitedly; as he waved his arms up and down after the manner of a cheer captain at a college football game.

"They've lit out, that's what," grumbled William, who felt as though cheated.

"All right, then. It's just as well, for a fight would be a mighty poor way of preparing to join the scout movement. You'll learn what I mean later on when you hear the twelve points of the law that every fellow must subscribe to," observed Paul, seriously.

"What d'ye mean, Paul?" demanded Bobolink, quickly.

"Yes, tell us right now what the twelve rules are," said William.

"I know, for I read all about them a few days ago," remarked Wallace, readily.

"All right, then, suppose you call them off. What does a scout promise to be if allowed to wear the uniform, Wallace?" asked the leader.

"To be trustworthy, loyal, helpful to others, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient to his superiors, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent."

"Why, it doesn't say a single word about fighting!" ejaculated William.

"Because a scout must never fight save as a last resort, and then only to save some weak one from punishment. He must be brave to face danger, to stop a runaway horse; or jump in and keep another from drowning. Do you get on to the meaning of this movement, fellows?" asked Paul, eagerly. The more he read about it the greater became his desire to have a hand in organizing a Stanhope troop that might compete with those of Aldine and Manchester, two rival towns, both on the opposite side of the Bushkill River, the former a few miles up-stream, and the latter the same distance down.

"We do, and I tell you I like it better and better the more I hear of it," said Jack, earnestly. "Why, I just had an idea it meant being junior soldiers, and drilling so as to be ready to invade Canada, or repel the yellow peril when the little Japs swarmed across the Pacific. Count me in, Paul."

"If I can pass the examination I'm going with you, sure," observed William.

"All right, but if they take you in just remember that you've got to quit your playing tricks on everybody, William," declared the other Carberry Twin.

"Listen to him, will you? He's feeling hard on me just because dad gave him a touch of the cane last night, thinking it was me. As if I was to blame for looking like my brother," the other said, plaintively, though chuckling at the same time.

"You know you fixed it so he'd pounce on me. I'm always in hot water because you must have your fun. 'Taint fair, and I'd have to be an angel not to kick. Oh! I hope you get to be a scout, because then I'll have some peace," declared Wallace; but all the others knew very well what a deep and abiding affection there really lay between the Carberry Twins.

"Let's go home now. No use staying any longer out here, with Ted Slavin and his cronies hanging around, ready to bombard us again. Besides, I guess Paul wants to wait till he gets his book before telling us any more about the game."

"Right you are, Nuthin'. I only wanted to see how the land lay, and if you took to the idea. I'm satisfied already that it's going to make a hit, if we can get a few more fellows to join in with us," said Paul.

"I know one good recruit I can drum up—Tom Bates," spoke up Albert.

"And a good addition to the seven now here. That would make our first patrol," echoed the leader, quickly.

"How about inviting some of the Slavin crowd to join us?" asked Bobolink.

"Well, perhaps we might pick a couple there; but I think you'll have to be getting up early in the morning to manage it," replied Paul, meaningly.

"What's that?" asked William.

"Just this. Ted Slavin has heard our plans. You know that he never likes to see anybody else pull down the plums. What will he do right away, fellows?"

"Go and see his shadow, Ward Kenwood, and get him to put up the money to start the ball rolling. My word for it that inside of a week there'll be two rival Boy Scout troops in little old Stanhope," remarked Jack Stormways.

"Say, that would be great, if the other crowd only acted on the square," ventured William. "We could have all sorts of contests between us. But I know Ted Slavin too well to believe he'll ever subscribe to the twelve rules Wallace mentioned. Why, he'd have to be made all over again to do that."

"Look here, Paul, if a fellow has to live up to the rules, however could the members of Ted's company be taken into a troop of Boy Scouts?" asked Bobolink, who always sought information.

"I don't believe they ever could. Still, there's no law in the land to prevent any lot of boys from forming a patrol, and calling themselves scouts. That's my way of looking at it," was the answer the leader gave.

The lads were now on their way home, the lantern having been secured, and extinguished, lest it invite another bombardment on the part of their tormentors, doubtless still hovering somewhere nearby.

No further attack came, however, for which some of them were possibly sorry, particularly William and Bluff, who delighted in strenuous action at all times.

On the border of the town the seven separated into three groups, the twins going off arm in arm, Bluff, Bobolink and A. Cypher forming another; while Paul and his particular chum made up the third.

"Well," said Paul, as they headed for the house of his comrade, which chanced to come before his own, "what do you think of my scheme, Jack?"

"Immense, that's what. I'm only astonished that nobody else took up with the idea before. Poor old Stanhope seems to be away behind the times, Paul."

"Well, I don't know. We've had lots going on this summer to take up our time; and then most of us were away during part of the vacation. There are other towns just as slow to catch on," returned the other, loyal to the place of his birth.

"But now that the ball has been started rolling, just watch how fast it gathers force. I know how you go at these things. And of all the fellows I ever met, you are the one best fitted to lead in this thing, if I understand the game right. Why, it's just going to fit in with the things you've preached and practiced for years."

"That's why it appealed so strongly to me, after I really understood what the many duties of a scout were supposed to be. But what's the matter with you, Jack?"

"Eh? With me? Oh, nothing much, Paul."

But the other knew better, for he had noticed a frown come over Jack's usually smiling countenance more than once that evening, when the other thought he was not observed; and from this Paul felt positive his chum was worrying about something.

"Of course, if you think it best not to take me in on it, I'm the last one to bother you, old chap," he went on, when Jack interrupted him.

"It wasn't that, Paul, not in the least. To tell the truth I've been thinking it over, and just about made up my mind that I must tell some one, or I'd never sleep easy. And of all my friends you're the one closest to me. Yes, I'm going to confess that there is something that puzzles me, and fills me with alarm."

"Say, is it as bad as that, Jack? But how is it you don't want to go to your own folks? You've got one of the best dads I ever knew, and your mother, well, few are in the same class with her."

"That's just it, Paul. I'd hate to have either of them know anything about this trouble."

Paul swung his friend around so that he could see into his face; for they were just passing a street lamp at the time.

"Oh! I can look you in the eyes, old fellow. It isn't anything disgraceful I've been doing, not at all. But you see," and again that frown darkened Jack's brow as unpleasant things presented themselves before his mind's eye, "it's a family affair, I'm afraid, and must be kept quiet."

"Now you have got me to guessing good and hard. Suppose you tell me what it's all about. I hope your brother, Karl—" and there Paul stopped, for by instinct he seemed to feel that he had guessed the truth the first shot.

Jack had given a huge sigh that seemed to well up from his heart.

"Yes, it's about Karl, only I do hope that it will prove a false alarm, because I just can't believe he'd do such a rotten thing," the other went on, slowly.

"But he's only a little fellow after all, Jack?"

"That's so, but old enough to know better. You shall hear it all, and then perhaps you'll advise me what to do," went on Paul's chum, with a vein of relief in his voice, as though he felt better already, after deciding to share his trouble with another.

"That's right, and you know that it goes no further, Jack."

"Karl got into some mischief a week ago, and to punish him father cut off his allowance of spending money for a whole month. Now, Karl belongs to a boys' club, and I heard that at their last meeting the other day he paid up his dues, and seemed to have plenty of money. The question that is bothering me is, where did he get it?"

"Oh! is that all? Why, you forget that your brother is a bright chap; and I imagine you'll find he's been earning it some way or other; or perhaps his mother gave it to him. But see here, there's more back of this than you've told me?" declared Paul, suddenly.

"There is," replied his chum. "Listen now, and for goodness sake I hope you can cheer me up some, by explaining a mystery that's bothering me. It's about those old coins Uncle Reuben sent to me two years ago. There are some twenty-one in the lot. They're copper coins, you know and I don't suppose worth much. I've always kept them in a little open cedar box on my table up in the den; you've spoken about them more than once."

"Sure, I remember all about them; but you don't mean to say—" and there Paul stopped, almost afraid to voice the thought that flashed before his mind.

"Yes, a bunch of them have gone in a mighty queer way. Why this morning there were just fourteen left; but to tell the truth I was afraid to go up there at supper time when I came in after our last game of ball on the lot, to see if any more had disappeared."

"Say it plainly, Jack. Some one is taking your old coins, sent by your uncle, and you're just afraid it's Karl, tempted to get some money in that way. But where could he sell them, do you think?"

"There's old Doc. Thomes, who keeps stamps and curios for sale. I've seen some coins in his window often. He would know the value of these, and perhaps be willing to pay something for them. Oh! it's just awful even to suspect my brother of being guilty of such a mean thing. I hate myself for allowing it, and have made up my mind just to hide the rest away, and never say a word."

"No, I wouldn't do that, Paul. In the first place it isn't fair to Karl."

"Fair? What can you mean? I wouldn't ever say a word to him, never!"

"That's just it, but you would think it always; and if he is innocent, why you see what a shame that would be. No, you ought to learn the truth, even though determined to keep your mouth shut afterward. In justice to Karl, you must know!"

"I believe you are right, old fellow. And I'm going to be guided by what you say. Come in with me, won't you?" pleaded Jack.

"Yes," answered Paul, promptly. "On condition that you take me up to your den, where we can talk without being disturbed."

"You have an object in saying that. I believe you want to see for yourself if any more of my coins have disappeared?" declared the other.

"I acknowledge the corn, for that is just what I wanted to learn, Jack."

"I suppose the sooner I take the bull by the horns, the quicker we can learn the truth; so come on in," and taking his chum by the arm Jack led the way boldly up to the door of the Stormways' house.

They managed to pass upstairs to the third floor without attracting any attention, the family being gathered around a table in the living room, reading.

No sooner had the lamp been lighted, after the door was closed, than Paul stepped over to the table desk which he knew so well.

Just as Jack had said, there was a little cedar box standing in plain view, and the coins it held attracted his eye.

Slowly and deliberately he proceeded to count them, while his chum awaited the result with abated breath, and his eyes turned in another direction.

"Well?" said Jack, hoarsely, when he saw that the other had dropped all of the coins back, one by one.

"You said there were fourteen left this morning, didn't you, Jack?"

"Yes, and now?"

"I find just eight here, that's all!" came the answer that caused the wretched brother of young Karl Stormways to shiver and sigh dismally.

CHAPTER III

THE DISAPPEARING COINS

"Just thirteen gone now," said Jack, as he bent over to look for himself.

"Of course you know what they were, those that are missing?" suggested Paul.

"I have a list of the bunch somewhere; made it out one day just for fun. Yes, I think I could tell them again; but I never would have the heart to accuse old Doc. Thomes of buying stolen coins; and the thief—never!"

"I didn't mean that, Jack; you mistook me. Suppose I had that list, and rooting over all the little boxes he keeps his coins in for sale, found every one of the missing ones there?"

"Yes, and then what?" asked the other, greatly affected, though watching his chum's face eagerly, as though something seemed to tell him Paul would find a way out of the difficulty, such was his faith in the other.

"Why, perhaps you might buy the whole lot back, for almost a song, and never say a word."

A hand crept out and squeezed Paul's warmly; and there were tears in the eyes of Jack Stormways as he made answer.

"Just like you, old fellow, to cheer me up like that. Here, let me hunt up the list for you. But promise that you won't whisper one little hint to a living soul. Oh! Karl, how could you?"

"Hold on, don't judge him before you know. Believe him innocent until you find proof otherwise. I guess you'll learn that one of the first things a scout has to do is to believe in his brothers and friends through thick and thin, until the proof has become positive, or the guilty one confesses. And another thing, Jack, in case the worst comes true, it's up to us to make sure that such a miserable thing never happens again. We must save the one in error, save him through kindness and sympathy. How old is Karl?"

"A little over ten."

"Too young to join the troop then, for all boys have to be twelve or over, according to the rules, I was told. But they have younger fellows in the bunch over at Aldine, I'm sure. One I saw strutting around in a uniform looked like a kid of eight or nine. Never mind; I believe it'll all come out right yet. Perhaps some servant may have taken them?" said Paul, wishing to buoy up his chum's spirits.

"We only have one, and she's been with us ever since I was born. No use thinking Maggie would touch a single thing," declared Jack, quickly, with a shake of his head.

Paul sauntered about the room for a few minutes. Apparently he was glancing at the numerous college pennants and other things that were upon the walls; but in reality he found himself wrestling with the strange puzzle that was giving his chum so much concern.

Presently he stood by the window, which was partly open.

"Who owns the Dempsey house now, Jack?" he asked, indicating the building next door.

"Oh! it is still for sale," replied the other. "They don't want to rent it again, you know, and ever since that last party moved out of town and left things looking so bad, Mr. Dempsey has kept it closed up."

"When he lived here, you and Scissors used to be something of chums, didn't you?" Paul went on.

"Well, yes," the other admitted, "when we were smaller. But ever since Scissors started going with the Slavin crowd I've cut him dead."

"I wish I lived as close to you as this," Paul observed. "Why, we could nearly shake hands across the gap. I don't suppose Scissors ever drops in to see you nowadays?"

"I should say not," laughed Jack; "why, we've been at swords points now for a year and more, and never even speak as we pass each other."

"Oh! well, of course then it would be silly to think of suspecting him," remarked Paul as he sat down again.

But nevertheless, many times his eyes seemed to turn toward that partly opened window, and then in the direction of the low desk where the box of coins stood.

"Scissors" Dempsey had come by his nickname because of a peculiar trick he had of keeping his knees stiff when walking. Long ago one boy had likened his long legs to a pair of scissors, and quick to take up a humorous name like this, his mates had called him nothing else in years.

"Well, it's a mighty funny thing where that bunch of old copper coins has gone to!" remarked Jack, presently, unable, it seemed, to think of anything else just then.

"I believe this den of yours is hardly ever locked," remarked Paul, presently, "and all persons can come up here whenever they choose. I've even often found your dog Carlo sleeping here. Why, if any friend calls to see you, and wants to wait till you come home, he just meanders up here as he pleases, and amuses himself looking over your books and magazines. Isn't that so, Jack?"

"Sure. My mother says this is Liberty Hall, judging from the way all my chums go and come. But what's got you now? Do you think some other chap may have fallen into the nasty habit of helping himself to my coins, either to swell out his own collection, or to sell them to Doc. Thomes?"

"Oh! hardly that, although it seems possible. But don't worry too much about it, Jack. I'm sure we'll discover the truth sooner or later."

"Anyhow I'll have eight to hide away; part of a loaf is better than no bread," remarked the other, dejectedly.

"Oh! I wouldn't put them away, not just yet, anyhow, Jack."

"But, my goodness, perhaps I'll lose all of my coins if I leave them around like this any longer on my desk!"

"That's so, but don't you see if you hide them, it shuts us off from ever learning who is taking them."

"Oh! I see. You mean to catch him at it some time; is that the idea, Paul?"

"Nothing less. I'll drop in at the old dealer in curios to-morrow, and find out if he has any that are on this list. Listen, there's somebody at the door!"

"It's only Carlo, scratching to get in. Open the door, please, Paul."

As the other did so a large Newfoundland dog stalked solemnly in, paid little heed to either of the occupants of the den, but snuggled down in a corner, where there was an old cushion, evidently placed there for his especial use.

"My! he's getting fatter than ever," remarked Paul, surveying the bulging sides of the shaggy canine, as he curled himself up as if to sleep.

"I believe he is, the scamp. I see it when I put him through his paces with all the tricks I taught him. He's getting too logy, and has to be told three times before he'll do a blessed thing. But about this wretched matter, Paul—you won't say anything to your folks, will you?"

"Not for the world. It's your secret, and I'd never leak a word without your permission. But I must be off now. Leave things just as you always have done; and don't shut or lock the door here any more than before. I've got to do some studying over this Boy Scout affair when I get back. Whitson loaned me some pamphlets, but I didn't have time to read them through."

Jack accompanied his friend down to the front door. Here Karl, having heard them descending the stairs, joined them; and so far as Paul could see there was no change in the boy's manner. If he had done wrong he must be clever enough to hide the guilt that lay in his heart, and put on a bold face.

"Remember!" was all Paul said as he squeezed Jack's quivering hand, before jumping down the steps, boy fashion.

It was enough to encourage the sorely distressed lad, for he had the greatest faith in Paul Morrison, the doctor's son, that any boy could ever place in a comrade; nor had the other ever failed to equal his expectations.

"I really believe Paul will do it," he was muttering to himself as he slowly went upstairs again to the den, with its decorations of college flags, and pictures of camping, canoeing, outdoor sports such as baseball and football struggles, and kindred things so dear to the heart of almost every growing lad; "yes, I believe he will if anybody can. But I wish he had let me hide the rest of them away. It seems like putting temptation in the way of a weak brother. But he told me I wasn't even to believe Karl took the coins, and I won't!"

Nevertheless, Jack Stormways must have passed a miserable night; for the anxious eyes of his mother noticed his distressed looks when he came down to breakfast on the following morning.

"You don't look well, son," she observed, as she passed her cool hand across his fevered brow; "I think you ought to step in and see Doctor Morrison some time this morning, and let him give you something."

"All right, mother; but it's only a little headache," he protested, for like all boys he disliked the thought of being considered sick.

Her eyes turned solicitously toward him many times during the meal, for she saw that Jack was unusually dull, and took little part in the conversation.

But it seemed that Karl made up for his brother's lack of energy, for he was more than ordinarily inclined to be merry, and told numerous jokes he had heard from his fellows in the boys' club he had joined.

Jack mentioned that they were about to organize a Boy Scout patrol; and very naturally his mother looked a bit serious at this news, until he explained some of the really excellent points connected with such an association; when her face cleared at once.

"If that is what the movement means then the sooner a patrol is organized in Stanhope the better. There are a lot of boys who would be vastly benefitted by such uplifting resolutions," she declared, with some show of enthusiasm.

"Yes, mother, you are right," said Mr. Stormways, just then. "Things have been going from bad to worse in our town of late, and the fathers are beginning to wonder where it will end. Only yesterday I met old Peleg Growdy. You remember the old fellow, for we stopped at his place when we were out riding, and had a drink at his well."

"Yes, and a most singular old man he was. I really couldn't say that I was much impressed with his looks or conversation," replied the lady, as she poured another cup of coffee for her husband.

"All very true; but he minds his own business if let alone; and after all I find that he is a well educated man, up in most questions of the day. But the boys, or some of them at least, have for a long time considered old Peleg a fit subject for practical jokes. They change the lines on his team, given half a chance, and annoy him in every way possible. Really, I don't wonder he is bitter about it."

"But you had something in mind, father, when you said that you met him?"

Mr. Stormways looked at Jack.

"That is true, my son; and do you know, the first thought that came to me was one of pleasure to feel absolutely sure no boy of mine would disgrace himself in plaguing an old man who had never harmed him."

Jack felt a glow in the region of his heart at this show of confidence; and resolved that more than ever would he merit it; but somehow he could not help looking out of the tail of his eye toward Karl, to find that the color had mounted to his forehead, and that he seemed embarrassed.

Was he thinking just then of the coins; or did he have some knowledge of the practical joke that had been played on old Peleg Growdy?

"Now, tell us what it was, Alan," said Mrs. Stormways, encouragingly.

"Well, perhaps in one way it may have been looked upon as something humorous, but it annoyed the old man very much. Last Sunday he went out to let his pigs run loose in the lot, as is his habit. When he pulled the rope that opened the little door in the back of the pen, he was astonished to see the queerest lot of porkers dash away that human eyes had ever beheld."

Karl was snickering by now, showing that he must have some knowledge of what was to come.

"No two pigs looked alike. The boys had crept into the pen in the night, with a lantern, and some pots of paint taken from Mr. Rabow's shop, and painted the whole drove in every color imaginable. One, he said, looked like the American flag. Another had four legs of different hues; a third was striped yellow and green, and so it went. Imagine the old man's amazement as he saw them kicking up their legs, and tearing around like mad; for the sun had reached the turpentine in the paint, and made it burn tremendously."

Karl gave a shout, and even Mrs. Stormways could not repress a smile, though she felt that it was wrong.

"I heard about it from one of the boys, father; I don't want to tell his name, you see, because it might get him into a scrape," said Karl, as he managed to get his breath again.

Jack breathed easier, since he knew now that his brother had not been concerned in the adventure; still, there was that other thing—but he had promised Paul not to believe, or even suspect, anything so early in the game.

"I admit that it does seem ludicrous; and no doubt if I had been there I must have been strongly tempted to laugh at the comical spectacle those six pigs must have presented. But it is the spirit of the thing that looks so bad. Growdy never harmed a boy in his life, he says, and only wants to be let alone; but they went out of their way to play a malicious trick on the old man. It took him the whole of Sunday to scrape that paint off the hides of his pigs; which I consider a pretty hard proposition. And I repeat what I said before, that I'm pleased to know a son of mine would not be guilty of so mean a trick."

Karl left the table just then, and his brother fancied that he looked a bit confused, as though his conscience were troubling him, but then Jack hoped he might be mistaken.

CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST SCOUT LEADER

Paul had said that he would be away the greater part of the day, his father having asked him to go to the city on an important errand.

Consequently there was no opportunity for the two chums to confer upon any of the matters that were interesting then.

But all the boys had agreed to meet at the house of Nuthin' that evening, to plunge deeper into the subject of organizing at least one scout patrol in Stanhope.

As usual Paul called for Jack, and as the latter's parents knew what was on tap, there was no opposition shown to his going out.

"Has anything happened to-day?" whispered the visitor, as he was joined by Jack in the hall.

"Yes, I was out a lot with the fellows, and doing some chores around; but I mustered up enough courage just before supper to go upstairs," replied the other, his voice giving plain warning as to what was to follow, for it showed the strain.

"And counted the coins again, perhaps to find them short, eh, Jack?"

"Well, you said there were eight, and now I can count only six. Why, it's getting to be a regular clock-like piece of business. And after what father said this morning, too."

"What did he say?" asked Paul.

"Come along. I'll tell you while we're on our way," and Jack gave a nervous look over his shoulder, as though afraid lest his brother pop out on them unawares.

As they walked slowly along the road he spoke in the affectionate manner in which Mr. Stormways had declared his utmost faith in the honesty and integrity of his two boys.

"But you're not sure that Karl has anything to do with the disappearing coins. Other boys may have been up there to-day?" suggested his friend, quickly.

"I asked mother, and she said she didn't remember that any one had come to see me. No, the more I think about it the worse I feel. But I guess you didn't have any time to see old Doc. Thomes before you went to the city, did you?"

"That's just what I did, dropped into his shop, told him I was going down to New York on business for dad, and asked if I could do anything for him."

"Oh! how bright of you, Paul. And what did he say to that?"

"It seemed to quite tickle the old chap. He said he had a little package he wanted to send in to a dealer on Fourteenth Street, and would be glad if I took it to him, instead of his sending it by express."

"A package, Paul; did he say what it contained?" demanded the other, almost holding his breath with sudden alarm.

"Yes, a lot of old coins he had been buying lately. Now, hold your horses, Jack, my boy. He hadn't made it up yet, and I helped him do it. There wasn't one of the same kind yours are. He bought the collection of Chinese and Japanese coins old Captain Crocker owned. His widow had no use for them, and needed the money."

"Oh, you gave me a scare, Paul; but I'm glad you saw them, for I'd always imagine mine must have been in the lot; not that I care a bit for the old things now; but it was the thought, you know, the terrible suspicion."

"Yes, and while about it I managed to see every old coin Doc. has in his shop, for he was pleased to let me root around. And Jack, not a single one of your missing pieces has he got, depend on it."

"Oh! well," remarked Jack, arousing himself, "let's try and forget my troubles for a while. Unless I get it off my mind I'll lie awake again, and then your father, the doctor, will give me some medicine that tastes even worse than what he did to-day. Did you get that manual you sent for, Paul?" and the speaker resolutely shut his teeth hard together as if determined to keep his mind off the harassing subject.

"Yes, it's in my pocket, and seems to be full of meat, too. I haven't had much chance to soak it in, but what I did read interested me a whole lot," returned the doctor's son.

"Well, I thought of a friend I had over in Manchester, and this afternoon I took my wheel and jumped down there, crossing by the bridge. Just as I hoped, Landy is a member of the troop there, and he gladly told me all he knew about the business. I'm more than ever tickled at the idea of our having a branch up here, to compete with the neighboring towns. He told me something more that we might consider, too."

"What was that, Jack?"

"You remember Mr. Silas Westervelt, the Quaker of Manchester?"

"Sure. I've often talked with him, and my father is their family doctor," replied Paul, readily enough.

"It seems that he's become interested in this scout movement, which he endorses through and through. The result is that he has offered a beautiful banner to the organization that can show the highest degree of efficiency, and the greatest number of merit marks by Thanksgiving day. It's being made now, down in the city."

"That counts us in, then, for we'll have plenty of time to get busy before the day of turkey rolls around, eh, Jack?"

"Oh! we'll be in the contest all right, even if we are counted in the 'also ran' class. These other fellows have been camping this summer, and must be up in many of the things that count. But then, they haven't got Paul Morrison at the head as scout leader, and that means everything in our favor," declared Jack, warmly.

"Please cut that out after this. It's true that I've always been deeply interested in many things connected with life in the woods; but you see that's only one part of a good scout's credit marks. In fact, there's hardly one thing in all the trades and professions that is omitted from the list. Only he must excel in all he undertakes. And soon we will have to find a young man over twenty-one who will act as our scout master."

"Hold up, there's Bobolink hurrying to catch us; and he acts as if he might be the bearer of important news," remarked Jack, who had heard a hail from the rear, and turned his head to see a flitting form.

The other came up, panting heavily.

"Say, you fellows must have the seven league boots, the way you get over ground. And just after I've gone and made away with a monstrous supper, too," he managed to say, between gasps. "Let me get my breath, and I've got something to tell you."

"Is it about Ted Slavin and his cronies?" asked Paul, suspiciously.

"Hit it the first shot," returned Bobolink; "who told you?"

"Why, I haven't heard a word; only I thought that if there was anything going on, Ted would be apt to have a finger in the pie," returned the other, grimly.

"Well, he has, all right, as usual. Anyhow his mouthpiece, Ward Kenwood, has, and it's the same thing. I was taking something in to the dominie at our church (my mother is at the head of a committee, you know) when he asked me if I was going to join the new Boy Scout patrol that was being organized in Stanhope."

"Whew, but those fellows don't believe in letting the grass grow under their feet, do they? Never thought a thing about it till they heard us talking matters over; and here they're getting all the credit for being first in the field," and Jack shrugged his shoulders ruefully as he spoke.

"Didn't I say we'd have to get up early in the morning if we hoped to keep from taking their dust? No matter what else you can say about them, Ted and his crowd are alive, and wide-awake fellows all the time," returned Paul.

"Well, the minister was some surprised when I told him all about it. He said he was delighted, and I guess he meant it too. The more patrols the better for the community, he said. And he seemed to know all about the meaning of the thing, for he showed me several books along the subject, that he promised to lend us."

"Bully for him!" cried Jack, with perhaps more energy than reverence; but had the genial old man heard the words he would have felt highly complimented, knowing that whoever succeeds in getting the approval of live, wide-awake boys must consider himself fortunate indeed.

"There's Nuthin's house," remarked Bobolink, just then.

"And Tom Bates going in, with the Carberry Twins. I hope we can enroll a dozen good fellows for a start. The rest will flock over after a bit, when they get to know what fine times we expect to have," remarked Paul.

They found that there were just a dozen present, counting A. Cypher, who as host was much in evidence. Besides Tom Bates, the new boys were Philip Towns, Jud Elderkin, Joe Clausin and Andy Flinn; the latter of Irish parentage, but well liked, even though his widowed mother had to take in washing to provide food for the numerous mouths dependent on her.

Andy was a particularly bright boy, and many declared that he had a future before him, if only he kept away from the one curse of his father's life, rum. But as he hated the very word drink, there seemed to be little danger that he would be apt to follow in the footsteps of the brilliant man who had fallen so early in life, and left a family nearly destitute.

"Meeting please come to order," called Paul, after he had been pushed into a chair to serve as temporary chairman.

Soon the boys began to go into the details of the projected troop, its meaning, what good it might be expected to accomplish, and everything connected with the Boy Scout organization.

Paul read page after page from the book he had brought, while the others, including the parents of A. Cypher, listened, and applauded at times, as some particularly fine point happened to strike them.

"That ought to do for the present," said Paul, finally, as he closed the book and beamed upon his mates; "and now, what do you think, fellows?"

"I'm just wild to get started, and more so than ever after hearing all about the hundreds of fine things scouts can do. I'm a crank on making fires, and I guess I'd qualify right easy for the championship in that tournament!" exclaimed William Carberry, his face aglow.

"Yes, and I remember the time he nearly burned our house down, trying to start a blaze without a match. He got the fire all right; but there was a lively time around there, until the bucket brigade arrived, and slushed things down. Oh! you can believe William; he's some on the fire racket," remarked the other Twin, at which there was a roar from those present.

"I move that we write out just what we intend to do, and that all the fellows in the room sign it as charter members. Then we'll try to double our dozen by a week, and rush things along. We already have enough for the first patrol and half a second. If we expect to compete with those other troops in the struggle for supremacy we've got to be awake and doing."

"You never said truer words, Paul. What sort of a binding agreement had we ought to get up?" asked Bobolink, pretending that it was Tom Bates who spoke; for really the boy had a wonderful gift of ventriloquism, and often amused himself, and his friends as well, by sending his voice into strange places, to the wonder of those who were not aware of his tricks.

"I thought that over, and wrote out what I believed would cover the ground. If you listen now, I'll read it to you," returned the chairman.

"Hear! hear ye! All keep silent while our honored chairman reads the document to which we expect to subscribe our names and seals!" called William, pompously.

What Paul had written was simply that those whose names were found below had united themselves together with the idea of forming a troop that could be connected with the regular Boys Scout organization as incorporated.

Then every boy present wrote his name beneath the agreement, after which they went into executive session, the parents of A. Cypher being kindly but firmly requested to retire from the room, while the election of officers proceeded, and other necessary steps were taken to perfect the first patrol.

So the first patrol of Stanhope Troop was organized, and consisted of the eight originators of the scheme. It was decided to call this the Red Fox patrol. As fast as others were arranged for they could take on such names as Gray Fox, White Fox and even Black Fox.

Later on they hoped to secure a scout master, but just now with Paul and Wallace brimming over with woods' lore, the lack of such an officer would not bother them.

The meeting ended in Paul being placed in the honored position of scout leader, with the second position being thrust on Jack Stormways, though he declared that Wallace Carberry was far better qualified to fill it than he ever could be.

But Paul was satisfied to have it so. Jack was his favorite chum; and he would be thrown much in his company. Besides, the desire to study up the rules, and perfect himself in all that an assistant scout master should know, might for a time at least take Jack's thoughts away from the subject of his trouble at home.

Before the boys left they were summoned to the dining room, where refreshments were placed before them; and when the meeting did finally break up every fellow felt deep down in his heart that an important step had been taken toward raising the standard of living among the rising generation of Stanhope.

Finally, as the hour had grown fairly late it was suggested that they leave in a body, since all military organizations did this.

"And," continued the one who had put this idea forward, "while we have nothing to do with the army itself, we expect to be governed by certain military rules. What say, fellows?"

"Fall in! fall in!"

Out of the door they marched, and down the steps, two by two; Bluff Shipley, who was paired with Nuthin', being the lone straggler in the rear, since his mate remained at home.

If he experienced the slightest sense of dejection at being compelled to walk without a side partner, it was of very brief duration.

Outside it was very dark, and this condition seemed more or less heightened by the fact that the eyes of the young scouts had become accustomed to the glow of the rooms they had just left.

Consequently there was more or less chance of some one tripping on the steps, and pulling others down with him.

"'Ware the fourth step; it's shaky and may throw you, boys!" sang out Nuthin'.

Hardly had he spoken than the first pair executed a beautiful forward bow, and went down in a heap from the lower step.

"Look out there! A rope!"

Paul had just barely time to give utterance to this warning when the next pair found the obstruction for themselves, and came plunging down on top of those already landed.

Two more were close behind, so nearly upon the heels of the second pair that it was really impossible for them to avoid following in their wake. Thus there were by this time six struggling figures at the foot of the steps, while the balance of the patrol huddled just above, looking with amazement at the dimly seen spectacle.

From somewhere near by, possibly the shelter of some bushes, came gurgles of boyish laughter, and jeering words in assumed voices.

No need to tell Paul and his friends to whose kind attention they owed this unexpected downfall. Ted Slavin and his backers had not been idle while the new patrol was being organized in the home of Nuthin'. They had fastened a stout rope across the lower step, and succeeded in tripping half of their rivals.

Paul managed to scramble to his feet, hardly knowing whether to laugh, or get angry at this practical joke on the part of the opposition.

CHAPTER V

CHECKING A COWARD

"It's that Slavin crowd!" exclaimed Jack, as he gained his feet.

"Let's capture some of them, then!" shouted William, always ready for battle, as was also Bluff Shipley, whose hands were never bothered with impediments as was his speech.

A rush was made for the bushes, and retreating footsteps announced the hasty departure of the enemy.

None of the new scouts seemed to care about following very far. They knew Ted of old, and feared lest they be drawn into a trap, so that their last condition would be really worse than the first.

"No damage done, after all," remarked Paul, as he brushed off his clothes; while the others gathered around, and Nuthin' came down to secure the treacherous rope.

"Barked my shins some, now; and sooner or later I've just got to take it out of that crowd!" muttered William, limping around, and shaking his head.

"Better do it soon, then," observed Bobolink, "for after you've taken the oath of allegiance to the scouts you dassent tackle a feller without losing marks."

"H'm! is that so?" grunted the injured member, regretfully; for to be deprived of the boon of fighting would be taking some of the joys of life away from the pugnacious Carberry twin.

"Fall in again, boys!" said Paul, cheerily.

"Not the same way, I hope, captain!" ventured Bobolink; at which there was a laugh, and the incident seemed closed.

The boys had no doubt but that their rivals must have been observing much that went on in the lighted rooms, possibly also trying to catch what was being said.

"What of it?" demanded Paul, when some one suggested this; "if they heard what I read out of that manual so much the better. Let them subscribe to those rules, and life will be worth living alongside Ted and his cronies."

"But you see they just can't!" declared Bobolink, quickly.

"Which is to say they won't. All right. Once we get out troop formed, public sentiment will be on our side. If they try to worry us the good people of Stanhope, backed by the Women's Club, will see to it that the nuisance is stopped. Isn't that so, Paul?" remarked Jack, with conviction in his voice.

"Them's my sentiments, as some character in fiction used to remark. We can afford to laugh at all these little plans to annoy us. Of course, if they go too far, why we may have to turn and do something ourselves," said Paul, seriously.

"Bully! Hasten the time!" cried William, ceasing to limp for the moment in his new delight.

"Oh! but Paul doesn't mean a regular give and take fight. If we pitch in at all, I'm afraid it'll have to be doling out punishment in the way the good dad does when he plies the stick and says it hurts him worse than it does the bad kid," declared Bobolink; at which there was a roar.

On the following day there was more or less skirmishing about town by various eager lads, seeking recruits for the rival troops.

Paul was as busy as a beaver, and at several points conferred with some of his followers. He had sent for more manuals, besides a price list of uniforms, and other equipments necessary to the complete organization of the Fox Patrol and Stanhope Troop No. 1.

Leading citizens began to take an interest in the movement, as they grew to understand its true significance. Stanhope seemed to be fairly sizzling with a new and novel energy. Even the meeting of the Women's Club that afternoon was given up partly to a discussion of the merits of the Boy Scout wave then sweeping over the land; and ladies who had been decidedly averse to such a thing found their eyes opened to its beneficial accompaniments.

As was to be expected, the recruiting was not confined to Paul and his chums. Ted Slavin and Ward Kenwood were just as vigorously employed; and several times in the course of the day the rivals ran across each other while engaged in thus drumming up new subjects for initiation.

On such occasions there was apt to be something in the way of verbal fireworks passing between the opposing scouts. Ted Slavin seldom knew how to bridle that tongue of his; and Ward Kenwood seemed to be in a nasty humor himself.

To tell the truth there had long been a sort of rivalry between Paul and Ward over the smiles of pretty Arline Blair; and latterly the high school girl seemed to be giving young Morrison more than his share of her company.

That afternoon about four o'clock, as Paul and two of his chums were passing along one of the side streets of the town they came upon a scene that caused a sudden halt.

The blustering voice of Ted Slavin was what first drew their attention; and it seemed to come from around the next corner. Then followed a quavering voice, pleading in its tone.

Paul looked at his friends, and his brow darkened.

"It's old Mother Martha, the market woman who sells things in her little stall around here. And some of those mean skunks are plaguing her, like they often do, she tells me, stealing her apples, and laughing at her, because she's lame with the rheumatism, and can't chase after 'em!" said William, who happened to be one of the trio brought to a halt so suddenly.

"Come on, then; we can't stand that!" exclaimed Paul.

The boys hurriedly turned the corner, to find that what William had suggested seemed to be the actual truth.

Ted and a follower were hovering near the poor old woman. The fact that Ted was contentedly munching a red apple told that he had already made his hawk-like descent on the stand of the market woman, and was now seeking to distract her attention so that his companion might also swoop down to seize a prize, when they would go off, laughing uproarously, as though they considered it a huge joke.

Paul was on the bully in a flash, and almost before Ted knew of his presence he had torn the apple from his grasp and hurled it far away.

"Get out of this, you coward!" exclaimed the scout leader of the new patrol, as he gave Ted Slavin a push; "I'm going to speak to the chief of police about the way you rob this good woman, and see if he won't stop it. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, both of you!"

William and Bluff were for jumping at the two offenders, and giving them a lesson then and there; but with both arms Paul held his fire-eaters back.

"Let 'em come on, if they want to mix up with us. We can take care of two, and think it a picnic. P'raps even three wouldn't be too much, if so be you want to try it on, Paul Morrison. Huh! there comes another bunch of your sissies. Seven against two might make it too interestin', so we'd better skip out, Scissors. But you just wait, that's all. I don't forget you laid a hand on me; and some time I'm going to take it out."

"Oh! suit yourself, Ted," answered the other, promptly. "I'm ready to have a go at you when you're ready, if you force me to the wall. I'm not a fighter, but when I see a couple of rowdies treating a poor old woman like you did, it makes me see red."

With derisive jeers the pair faded away as several boys came running to the spot, having seen the group, and guessing from the presence of the two rival leaders that there must be something doing.

Their indignation was boundless when they learned what new meanness the coming of Paul and his two chums had interrupted.

It required considerable persuasion on the part of the scout leader to prevent an immediate chase of the culprits.

"Let them go this time," said Paul, impressively; "but I'm going to see what can be done to put a stop to this rowdyism. It gives the boys of Stanhope a bad name all around. I told Ted I'd speak to Chief Billings about it."

"You won't get any too much satisfaction there," remarked wise Nuthin'; "because, you see the Chief owes his position to the political influence of Mr. Kenwood; and as Ward runs with Ted he won't dare do anything for fear of offending the head of the party. We've just got to find a way ourselves to change things."

"Well, I'll ask my father about it. Perhaps he can suggest a plan. He used to be a boy himself once, and never forgets it either," was Paul's conclusion, as they each bought an apple from the old woman to make her forget her recent trouble, and then walked away, followed by her earnest thanks.

"Say, but time just crawls along," observed William, dolefully; "because, you see, I'm dying to get to work and win some of them merits you told us about. Just set me the stunt of making water boil over a fire I have to kindle, and I'll do it in three shakes of a lamb's tail. The rest of you will be left hull down. And then there's lots of other jobs that look good to me. Let's get a move on, and start the ball rolling. When's the next meeting, Paul?"

"To-night, and once more at the barn where we were first. This time I figure on having nearly twenty present, and that will make things interesting."

"Same hour as before—eight o'clock?" asked Bobolink.

"Yes. And if any of you feel that you are qualified to take the examination for the first degree, so as to become real tenderfeet in the Scouts, why, I'll be in trim to put you through your sprouts," announced the leader.

"That hits me," declared William; "for I've been studying to beat the band, and believe I'll pass muster with flying colors. Me for the tenderfoot class!"

"And I've just used up a whole ball of twine tying all those measly knots," declared Nuthin'; after which his face brightened when he added: "but I can do every one just like an old jack tar. My dad was once a sailor you know, and that's where I've got the bulge on the rest of you. So-long, boys; I'm going home to try again."

CHAPTER VI

A STRANGE SUGGESTION

"Who goes there?"

"A scout of the Red Fox Patrol!"

"Advance scout, and give the countersign!"

A figure came shuffling forward, bent over, and whispered a word in the ear of the sentinel at the door of the old tobacco barn.

"Correct! Pass in, scout!" said the one on guard, solemnly.

But William chose to loiter by the door, and watch the gathering of the clans, for the boys arrived rapidly after that, usually in pairs.

"Where's the other twin?" asked Paul, seeing William alone.

"Unavoidably detained, Captain. May be on deck later. Here comes another bunch," and William stepped aside to allow the sentry to halt Andy Flinn, who had arrived in company with Jud Elderkin, the latter as tall and thin as the former was fat and pudgy.

"Pass along, gentlemen," sang out William, after the pair had successfully stood the test; "the animals went in two by two; the elephant and the kangaroo!" and as usual there was a laugh at this sally, which applied so aptly to the couple just entering.

"All here now, Paul," announced Jack Stormways, counting noses in the light of half a dozen lanterns provided by Mr. Shipley, the owner of the barn.

For an hour routine business was transacted.

There were just twenty-one names on the roll now, and all present saving two, Wallace Carberry and another. It was decided to organize two patrols at once, the first to be under the charge of Paul as scout leader, while Jud Elderkin took the Gray Fox crowd.

The more the assembled lads learned concerning the duties and sports of the Boy Scouts, the greater became their enthusiasm. As the evening progressed they were fairly bubbling over with excitement, and it began to look as though the success of the new movement were already assured.

But Paul knew that it must be a constant fight between the natural rough-and-ready, give-and-take spirit which almost every boy inherits from his ancestors, and the new idea that would have him a hero without being a bully or a brawler.

And he was not surprised when, later on, just before they thought of breaking up the meeting, William got the floor on the question of a personal privilege, and threw a bombshell into the camp.

"I'm going to ask a favor of you fellows," he said; "and you can help me break even with that old rooster as well as have some fun. D'ye think you can stand the racket?"

The others crowded around, for they knew very well that when William had anything to propose it usually meant some frolic. But Paul noticed to his surprise that the joker seemed worked up far more than he could ever remember seeing him before, and he scented trouble ahead.

"Who is it this time, William? Tell us about it, old fellow! Of course we're bound to stand by you through thick and thin. That's one of the first duties of a scout, you know. Speak up, and give us a tip!"

It was Jud Elderkin who said this; but that he voiced the sentiments of pretty much the entire group could be judged from the chorus of exclamations that greeted his aggressive speech.

"It's that old grumpy miser, Peleg Growdy," said the orator, waving his hands to emphasize his words. "He never had any use for boys, you know, and often says he wonders why the pests were ever born. I don't remember doing him any mean thing in my life, but he's got it in for the whole creation of boys, I expect."

"What did he do to you?"

"Yes, tell us, William. We'll stand by you, never fear."

"He needs a good lesson, the old skinflint. Tell us what happened!"

William grinned, for he saw that he had already captured the hearts of his comrades, and had small need to fear they would let him seek satisfaction alone.

Jack Stormways was as deeply interested in the outcome as his chum Paul.

He remembered all his father had said at the breakfast table on the preceding day, in connection with this same man Growdy.

William was proceeding to thrill his hearers some more. To hear him talk one might imagine his father was a celebrated lawyer instead of the town blacksmith, for William had a smooth tongue.

"I guess all of you know by this time what some fellers did to Growdy's pigs last Saturday night, painting 'em to beat the band? It's the talk of the town, and lots of folks says that it serves the old crusty just right. But I was tucked away in my little bed alongside t'other twin that night, as snug as two bugs in a rug; and consequently had my little alibi ready to prove I wasn't in the bunch that paid him that sly visit."

"Oh! we all know who did it, never fear!" cried Joe Clausin.

"He spells his name T-e-d!" echoed Bobolink.

"All right. Because some bad boys played that joke on old Growdy he seems to have it in for every mother's son in Stanhope. I met him on the road this afternoon when I was out with a light wagon after some feed. He was on the way to town to deliver a big load of truck. Everybody's entitled to half the road; ain't that the law, fellers?"

"Sure it is, William; but that mean man wouldn't budge for you, hey?" said Jud.

"Not for an inch. Just hauled up there taking two-thirds of the road, and started to light his pipe. I was in a hurry to get along, and thought I could just squeeze by; but I made a mistake, and my wagon got upset in the ditch. He went on, grinning at my trouble, and never offering to raise a hand to help me out."

Exclamations of indignation arose on all sides.

"He needs another lesson, boys!"

"Say the word, William, and we're with you. Guess I might think up a few ways for you to get even with the old skinflint!"

Paul saw that they were rapidly being swayed by their feelings of natural resentment. He had no particular reason for liking Peleg Growdy any more than the balance of the group; but the lesson of returning good for evil had taken full possession of his soul.

Once he would have been only too ready to join in with his chums in redressing what seemed to be a positive wrong; but somehow it was different now.

Before he could speak, however, Jack had elbowed his way into the midst of the excited lads, his face full of determination.

"Wait a bit, you fellows, before you decide what you're going to do. I want to tell you something that ought to interest you."

"All right, Jack; speak up. Any objection to joining in with us and having a little fun while we help a brother even up his score?" demanded a voice.

Then Jack repeated as well as he was able the conversation that had taken place at the breakfast table in his house. He went even further than this, for it happened that he knew something about the old man's past.

"Peleg Growdy is a crabbed old chap, I admit; but perhaps you wouldn't blame him so much if you knew the trouble he has had."

"What was that?" asked one boy.

"His wife and two children were burned to death when his house caught fire many years ago. Another child grew up to be a man, and committed some crime that made him run away. His last one, a daughter, was killed in a railroad wreck. Ever since then the old man shuns people, and just works as if he never wanted to know a living soul."

"That's tough, for a fact!" admitted one boy, slowly.

"But it don't excuse him for hating all boys. What business did he have sitting there and taking two-thirds of the road, to let William upset in the ditch trying to pass him?" demanded Jud, still rebelling.

"Oh! well, that's a rule of the road that isn't always carried out. For instance, the loaded vehicle is generally given more than its half; and William admits he was going light, while the old man carried a heavy load," said Jack.

"Yes, that's so," grunted William, unable to hold out against such logic.

"And perhaps, if he told the actual truth, William would admit that there was room enough for him to pass, if he had been a little more careful!"

"Sure; but I was in a hurry, you understand; and didn't see that the edge of the ditch was crumbly. But he laughed, I tell you, and that riled me!"

"And now you want to bring a dozen and more of your friends down on his place to commit some prank that will make him dislike boys more than ever. It's all wrong, I tell you, fellows, and for one I refuse to lend a hand," and Jack folded his arms as though his mind were made up once and for all.

Paul saw that they were very near a division that might be fatal to the future good of the cause. He wondered whether he could swing the crowd to the other side, like the pendulum of a clock. It would take considerable eloquence, as well as all his powers of leadership to accomplish it; but the crisis was upon them, and he would be false to himself if he did not meet the issue squarely.

"Will you listen to me, fellows?" he said, quietly, stepping forward to occupy the place just vacated by Jack, and managing to whisper to the other in passing: "back me up for all you're worth, and we may win the day!"

"Of course we will! You're the scout leader, Paul, and when you hatch up any game it's sure to be worth the powder. Let her go!" came from Jud, who seemed to be a sort of ringleader in this little rebellion in the camp.

"All right, boys. I'm going to make a proposition that will take your breath away; but I have strong hopes that after what you've listened to from that manual to-night, you'll be ready to back me up," continued Paul.

"We believe in you, Paul. You never fooled us yet; and you never will. What's your queer game?" asked Bobolink, ready to swing over already, such was his faith in the one they had elected their leader.

The boys crowded around Paul, more than eager to hear what his proposal might turn out to be; for novelty always appeals to the average lad.

"All of you know that old Peleg keeps his dooryard in a horrible condition. Why, my mother says she doesn't believe it has been cleaned up in years; and he hardly ever takes the trouble to even put his wagons and that old buggy in the shed. It's a disgrace to the town to have him so near. I've heard that the women talked about asking him to do something to make it look cleaner."

"He's a stubborn old man, and can't be driven, my dad says," remarked Jud.

"Now here's what I'm going to propose. You know he's pretty deaf, and can't hear much that goes on. He used to have a savage dog, but it died a couple of weeks ago, and since then he's been trying to get another, but so far without success. Get that?"

"Yes, but go on, Paul," demanded Bobolink.

"Let's go over to Peleg's in a body," continued the scout leader; "and while he sleeps clean up that dooryard of his so that in the morning he'll just rub his eyes and begin to think the fairies have paid him a visit in the night. And when he learns who did it perhaps he may feel something like you did, William. Don't you see, it'll be rubbing it in good and hard!"

Paul waited to see how his suggestion took.

The boys stared at each other in amazement. It is doubtful whether a parcel of wide-awake lads ever before had such a novel proposition made to them. And perhaps it was the sensational character of the appeal that stirred them more than any desire to return good for evil.

"Count me in that job, Paul," said Jack positively.

He had timed his interruption with exceeding cleverness. Boys are like sheep, and given a bell wether they will follow blindly where the leader goes.

"Me too!" cried Bobolink, quickly.

"Ditto! I'm for the game just as Paul says!" exclaimed Nuthin'.

And every one in the crowd followed suit, laughing at the idea of their turning the tables on the old farmer in such an unheard-of fashion; though several doubtless secretly scoffed at the project, and only agreed because it seemed to be a necessary evil if they wanted to become Boy Scouts.

CHAPTER VII

THE TRAP THAT PELEG SET

"There's Growdy's shack and barns!"

"Don't seem to be anything stirring, fellows!"

"Look out for a trap. Once bitten, twice shy. Perhaps he's just laying for some fellers to come along, and play some more paintin' job trick. I heard that he said he would find some way to stop the nuisance!"

This from "Red" Betts, who was known as a cautious chap, and able to vanish at the first sign of danger better than any fellow in town.

"Suppose we hold up here, and send out scouts to see how the land lies? That's the military way of doing it," ventured Bobolink.

"A good idea, and I appoint you, Bobolink, with Jud Elderkin, to carry out the little business," remarked Paul, in a low tone.

"Trot along, you chaps; the rest of us will bunk right here alongside the road and wait till you report," and suiting the action to his words William dropped in his tracks.

A brief time elapsed, and then the pair of spies returned.

"Not a single light in the house, and the coast clear, fellows; so come on!" and Jud waved his long arms as though enjoying his brief assumption of authority to the limit.

It would have doubtless astonished the old farmer had he chanced upon the scene just then. A young moon hung in the western sky, and while giving little light, still the figures of some score of stooping boys might have been discovered, advancing in broken formation along the road.

The leader silently opened the gate leading to the dooryard of Growdy's place. His barns stood near the house, so that the confusion which reigned was all the more noticeable. Its equal had never been known around Stanhope; and could only be expected in the case of a place where a woman's influence for cleanliness had been totally absent during the past ten years.

Over to the stable went some of the boys.

Paul had talked it all over with them as they walked, and each knew what part he was to take in the general clean-up.

To some of them it was simply another form of a lark. Boys are queer creatures even to those who imagine they know them well. They must be doing something all the time. Once get them started in the right direction, and they will labor just as sturdily to bring about a good object, as under other conditions, they would work to play a joke. It all depends on how they begin. And thanks to the sagacity of Paul, he had succeeded in interesting them in the novelty of his proposal.

Some secured rakes and hoes, and began to systematically gather up the scattered loose material that covered the place, ankle deep. Others pushed the wagons, and the old dilapidated buggy, back into the shed in systematic order.

They worked like busy bees, chuckling, whispering and evidently getting considerable fun out of the strange frolic.

Paul himself went over the job to make sure that it had been thoroughly done, and that nothing remained uncared for.

Up to this time fortune had favored the busy workers, since no sound had come about to betray their presence.

"How is it, Paul?" asked Jack Stormways, as he ran across the other in making his rounds.

"About at the end. The boys are putting the old tools back where they found them; and then we can go home. It's the best half hour's work any of us have done for a good while, I tell you, Jack."

"Some of the boys don't seem to think it quite so funny now as when they started in. They say they can't see where the pay is going to come in, and have begun to grumble," whispered the other.

"Perhaps it never will, and again, who knows what might come out of this? Anyhow, the ladies will be glad to see this dirty place clean for once. Some others I know may take a notion that if Old Growdy can clean up they ought to. Listen! what in the world is that?"

A rattling of tin pans came to their ears, as if one of the boys in prowling around had accidently upset a bench on which a milk bucket and some flat tinware had been airing.

"That settles it! He'll hear all that row and be out on us in a jiffy!" said Paul, annoyed because the affair had not gone off according to schedule.

"Look! there's a light sprung up inside the house. He's getting his trousers on, all right, and the sooner we skip out the better!" declared Jack.

The boys now came running from every direction, while sounds from within the nearby farmhouse told that Old Peleg must be switching on his heavy boots.

So Paul, knowing that the only thing left now was a hasty flight, gave the signal arranged for. It meant every fellow for himself until they had put a reasonable distance between themselves and the seat of danger. Then they could meet at a given place, and go home, laughing over the whole affair, and wondering what Peleg would think when he saw what a miraculous transformation had taken place while he slept.

Paul happened to be the very last to run away. Instead of passing out by way of the gate as most of the others did, Paul started to pass over the fence at an inviting point, where two of the bars seemed to be down, and he could gain the adjoining woodlot, from which he might reach the road at his pleasure.

But alas! the best of plans often go amiss. And that gap that yawned in the fence proved a delusion and a snare.

Hardly had Paul made the jump over the two lower bars than he found himself suddenly jerked down, and his head came with a crash on the ground, causing him to see a myriad of stars.

Nor was this all. An unknown power at the same time seemed to lift his lower extremities up in the air at least two feet, so that he appeared to be trying to swim on dry land.

For a moment he was puzzled to account for this remarkable happening; but as his head cleared a bit, and the stars ceased to shoot before his mental vision, he began to get an idea as to what had happened.

Apparently the fellows who had painted the farmer's pigs on the other night must have entered his place from the woods, and through this gap in the fence.

Old Peleg had remembered, and anticipating another invasion sooner or later, he had succeeded in arranging some sort of ingenious trap on the spot.

In jumping Paul had set off the trigger, with the consequence that a noose had instantly tightened around his ankles, and a hogshead partly filled with stones, starting to roll down the slope, had drawn his legs upward.

Well, at any rate there he was, clinging to the grass, and with an unseen force pulling at his elevated feet, so that he was helpless to assist himself.

It was very funny, no doubt, but Paul hardly felt like laughing, just then. He tried to wriggle around so as to get at the loop, in the hope that he might loosen the same; but all his efforts were wasted.

Old Peleg had builded better than he expected when he set that trap in which to catch his tormentors.

He was coming now to see the result of his cunning. No doubt he had heard the tremendous rattle as the bulging barrel of stones started to roll down the slope after being liberated; for even a deaf man could hardly have missed that racket. Lantern in hand he was even now hobbling along, chuckling in anticipation of what he would find in his trap.

Closer came the limping farmer. Paul saw now that he held a vicious black whip in his right hand, while gripping a lighted lantern in the other.

Laughter in the distance told that the boys had all taken themselves off. They could not suspect what a dire calamity had befallen their leader, or a rescue party must have certainly been formed.

Another minute and Peleg had arrived at the fence, and bending over held the lantern so that its light fell upon the figure of his captive.

"Gut ye, have I? Mebbe ye'll try to paint some critters of mine agin, an' mebbe ye won't!" said the farmer, as he raised the ugly black whip which he held, with the evident intention of bringing it down good and hard on the helpless boy.

CHAPTER VIII

TURNING THE TABLES

"Wait, Mr. Growdy!" Paul hastened to exclaim.

The old man laughed harshly as he flourished the whip. Perhaps he had never struck a boy before in all his life, and hardly knew how to begin; but his temper was plainly disturbed, and he meant to make a start.

"What should I wait fur, when I cort ye in the very act? Paint my critters red, white an' blue, will ye? P'raps ye wanted to pull all the feathers out o' my flock o' chickens this time, an' think it funny. Sarve ye right if I gi'e ye a dozen stripes!"

"Mr. Growdy, I did you a favor once!" said the prisoner of the trap, wishing to keep the old man as long as possible from starting operations.

"Say ye so? Wall, this wipes it out then. Who air ye, anyway?"

The farmer bent lower, and thrust his lantern so that its light would fall upon the face of the boy. Immediately he uttered a grunt, for it was plain that he had recognized his captive.

"So, it's ye, is it, Paul Morrison? This is some surprise, seein' as ye're the last boy I'd expect to be up ter sech meanness. What d'ye think yer father'll say w'en he hears 'bout this?"

"I guess he'll laugh, and say it was about the cutest trick ever played on you, Mr. Growdy," came the immediate answer; "but please get me down from this. Perhaps the blood will all run to my head. Tie my hands if you want, and fix it so I can't run away; but I couldn't stand this long."

"So ye think yer father'd larf, do ye? I never wud 'a' b'lieved Doctor Morrison was the kind o' man to encourage practical jokes on anybody," grumbled the old man, plainly at a loss to understand what was meant.

"Well, he isn't, and I'd be sorry to have him know I was guilty of such a thing. But you're barking up the wrong tree, Mr. Growdy, I give you my word we none of us had any trick in mind when we came here to-night."

"Then what took you in my dooryard here; for I heard a pack runnin' away when I kim out of the house? Tell me that, Paul," insisted the farmer; but the hand that held that cruel looking whip had fallen to his side, which was a good sign.

"I'll be only too glad to do so if you let me up. Tie my hands, my legs too if you want, sir; but I'm getting dizzy from having my head below my heels."

Peleg stooped still closer. He again held the lantern down so that he could look into the face of his prisoner; after which he did something that Paul had hardly expected—bent over, seized the rope connected with the laden hogshead, and pulling hard succeeded in casting the loop that had just encircled Paul's ankles, over a post of the fence.

"Get up, Paul!" he said, grimly, yet with a flicker of curiosity in his wrinkled face; as though a dim suspicion that there might be something out of the ordinary back of this, had begun to take possession of his mind.

Paul regained his feet, a little wobbly to be sure, for he had experienced a bad fall, and his head felt rather tender where it had come in contact with the hard ground.

"Thank you, Mr. Growdy. And now I'm going to tell you something. Perhaps you will find it hard to believe me, and again you may not just appreciate our way of taking matters in our own hands, when the request of the women of Stanhope didn't have any effect. Look around your dooryard, Mr. Growdy. Do you see anything changed here?"

The farmer held up the lantern, and what he saw caused him to utter an exclamation.

"Ev'ry one o' 'em gone, by hokey! If so be ye've smashed all my rigs, Paul Morison, I'll have the law on ye, as sure as my name's Peleg Growdy!" he roared, aghast at what he deemed a serious discovery.

"Come with me, Mr. Growdy. Notice as you go that this place doesn't look much like a pigpen now. In fact, I calculate it's as clean as any dooryard around Stanhope. Even the ladies can drive past now without being shocked. And Mr. Growdy, if you will take the trouble, sir, to look under that wagon shed, you'll see every one of your vehicles just where they should be when not in use!"

The old man stared, as well he might.

"By gum!" Paul heard him mutter; and the words seemed to express the situation so well that the boy could hardly keep from laughing outright.

Finally the puzzled farmer turned and looked at the lad who stood there beside him. Easily might Paul have made his escape at any time now; but that was really the last thing he thought of doing. He would much rather remain and see the bewilderment of Peleg Growdy reach its conclusion.

"Look here, Paul, what's this hull thing mean?" finally demanded the farmer.

And Paul, remembering the fact that the old man was hard of hearing, raised his voice as he thought fit when making reply.

"Do you want me to tell you the whole thing, sir?"

"I sartin do, every word. Blest if I kin make head or tail out o' it. Reckons as how them leetle fairy twins ye read about must 'a' ben workin' wile I slept; er else I'm dreamin' things that caint be true."

"Listen, Mr. Growdy," Paul went on. "Perhaps you may not know that we have started a troop of the Boy Scouts here in Stanhope. Some twenty of us have joined, and later on we hope to get uniforms, and other things needed, when we have earned the money to buy them. Those boys you heard running away were my friends and comrades, every one going to be a true scout."

"Soldier bummers then, out on a raid, and ready to kerry off everything they kin lay hands on," grumbled the old man, still unable to grasp the true condition of affairs.

"At a meeting to-night in Mr. Shipley's barn we made further progress looking to perfecting our organization. But boys will be boys, you know; and one of our number asked the rest to help him get even with you, because you forced him into the ditch this afternoon, upsetting his wagon."

Old Growdy moved uneasily.

"I was real sorry to see William do that. If he'd only waited till I lighted my pipe I 'spected to pull out a leetle more, so's to let him git by; but he was that impatient he must push on," he said.

"Just as I thought. Well, Mr. Growdy, one of the rules of the scouts is that a member must never return an evil deed by another of the same kind. I proposed that we try to make you change your mind about detesting all boys. So we came here, not to paint your pigs as some other fellows did, I'm told; not to let your stock loose, or run off with your wagons; but to clean up your dooryard, and give you the greatest surprise of your life when you came out in the morning!"

"Sho! now. That takes the cake!"

"When one of my chums upset that bench by accident, and the pans fell with a racket, of course it gave the whole thing away, and we started to run; but unfortunately I happened to drop into your nice little trap, and you found me upside down. That is all, Mr. Growdy. Do you want to whip me now, or take me in to the lockup, which?"

Peleg Growdy found himself strangely thrilled as he looked into that frank, smiling face of Paul Morrison.

For almost a full minute they stood thus.

Then Peleg spoke.

"Reckon as how them comrades o' yers must 'a' gut a long start by now, Paul. S'pose ye see if ye kin ketch up with 'em, son."

That was all, but as Paul hurried off he was conscious of a strange feeling deep down in his breast; and he felt sure that after all it had paid. Peleg Growdy at least had met with the surprise of his life. After this possibly his ideas of juvenile depravity might undergo a violent change; for such positive natures as his usually swing from one extreme to the other, just like the pendulum of a grandfather clock.

Paul did not catch up with his fleeing comrades, for they had secured too good a start. When he reached the rendezvous, however, he found them there, one and all, and wondering what could have happened to detain him.

Loud were the expressions of astonishment as he calmly announced that having been caught in a trap, he had held a face to face talk with Peleg Growdy himself; when he managed to relate the whole surprising adventure the boys were stunned at the possible consequences of their little prank.

Those who had considered it only in the light of a joke began to see that Paul had something deeper in mind when he proposed such a thing.

All the way home Paul was kept busy repeating some of the things he had said to the irate farmer. It gave those lads something to ponder over when by themselves. Possibly they had never before realized what a powerful lever for good such a method of returning a grudge may become.

Paul himself was delighted. Even if nothing more came of it he could look back to the little adventure with satisfaction such as Ted Slavin and his cronies might never feel with regard to their prank.

And the next morning Paul was not at all ashamed to relate the entire circumstance at the breakfast table. He felt amply repaid when he saw the look of pride upon his mother's face, as she turned her eyes, filled with unshed tears, upon him and said gently:

"I am glad you did it, Paul. I know the history of poor Peleg Growdy; and surely he has had enough of trouble during his life to make him different from the rest of his kind. The milk of human kindness has perhaps been dried up in his breast; yet who knows, my boy, but that you may have set him to thinking by that one little act of yours. I shall never fear for you, Paul, whatever betides."

His father, the doctor, was a man of few words; but that morning when he was going off on his round of visits he did an unusual thing—took Paul's hand, and gave it an affectionate squeeze, while the look that accompanied the action needed no further explanation.

And Paul was many times satisfied.

That day and others saw a growing buzz of excitement in the town of Stanhope. It seemed as though nearly every boy over the age of twelve, yes and even under, might be filled with a burning zeal to join the new troops that were being started under two different scout leaders.

Ward Kenwood had entered heart and soul into the work, which seemed to appeal to him; but there were those who secretly believed he was more concerned about opposing his rival, Paul Morrison, than in building up a second troop of scouts that would be a credit to the place.

Ted Slavin, of course, worked hand in glove with his friend, Ward. If money counted for anything they had no reason to complain; for inside of a week there blossomed out numerous boys clad in the new khaki uniforms that distinguish the Boy Scouts everywhere.

Some of Paul's friends felt grieved because they had failed to get their equipments as soon as the others; but nothing could disturb the scout leader.

"You'll see that they are bound to meet up with a snag when they apply for admission to the real organization. They can't subscribe to many of the rules. Then again you know that the real scout scorns to receive his uniform as a gift. Everything he owns must be earned. But most of us are nearly ready to send for suits. Wait a little longer. The race is not always to the swift."

In this fashion then did wise Paul bring peace to the troubled hearts of those anxious ones. Never a member of the new Fox Patrols that sought an interview with the scout leader but who came away feeling that there was not a cloud in the sky of their future.

In this manner a week, and then ten days, drifted along, with the opening of school looming up in the near future.

Paul had almost forgotten the troubles of his chum when one day he had the fact suddenly brought to his attention again, as Jack came upon him with a face upon which rested the same old cloud of anxiety and grief.

CHAPTER IX

"WELL DONE, MY BOY!"

"There, some more gone, Paul!"

"But it's nearly ten days since we talked it over last, and then there were, let me see, I believe six coins left," returned the other, quickly.

"That's true enough. And I can see now that you're wondering why none have been taken all this time, up to to-day," remarked Jack, as he came alongside his chum, who was looking in at a window where sporting goods made a brave display.

"Will Carlo hang around and wait for you a bit?" asked Paul, looking with a smile toward the big Newfoundland dog that had been trotting at the heels of his young master, carrying a basket, in which were several packages from the store.

"Sure. He's well trained, and that is one of the smallest of his stunts, as you know. See, he has laid the basket down, and stands guard over it. I dare any dog in Stanhope to try and take it away. Now, you want to know about my poor old batch of coins!"

"I'm waiting to hear, old fellow," said Paul, tenderly; for he could see that his chum was once again highly charged with emotion.

"I thought I'd try a scheme unbeknown to you," began the other, slowly.

"Perhaps I can guess what you did—was it that you locked the door of your little den, Jack?"

"Well, now, you are a champion guesser, for that was just what I did, every day up to this one—shut down the window, locked the door, and never went up there once," replied his comrade, with surprise written on his face.

"And nothing was missing?"

"Not a coin. I counted six myself this morning when I went upstairs just to get something out of the snuggery."

"Did you forget to lock it after you, Jack?"

"No; but an idea came to me. At the time I thought it a bright one; but now I'm more than half sorry I ever tried it."

"Oh! then you left the door unlocked again on purpose?"

"Yes, and with the window open, at that. The invitation was plain enough," murmured Jack, with dejection in his voice and manner.

Paul seemed to ponder over the matter; and indeed it was quite enough to try any boy's wits.

"Do you happen to know if any fellow called to see you to-day while you were out?" he asked, presently.

"Now, I thought of that, and asked both my brother and Maggie to pay particular attention to it, if any boy stopped over, hoping I would come in."

"Nothing doing?"

"It's kind of queer, but do you know, for a wonder not a single fellow has been at our house this blessed day. Generally half a dozen call to see me, you know, to borrow books from my library, or talk over matters connected with our school society. It just looks as if everything wanted to mix me up worse than ever, and make me think—"

"Never mind what it makes you think," interrupted Paul, quickly, squeezing the arm of his chum affectionately; "let's get down to facts. You know I promised that I'd find out the truth about this matter; and while up to now I've given it mighty little attention, don't think that I've forgotten, Jack."

"I don't; only it bothers me to understand how you can ever expect to find out who's taking my old coins, if I've made a mess of it; and living in the house at that!" rejoined the other, with bewilderment plainly visible on his face.

"Leave that to me. I repeat my promise, and if everything else fails why, what's going to hinder my hiding up there behind some of your stuff, where I can see for myself what happens?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Jack, "that would be a clever idea; but much as I want to know the truth, I'm afraid to!"

"Well, you've got to get over that feeling. No matter what happens it's far better to know the worst; for then it may be remedied. I've heard my father tell of many a desperate case where only heroic treatment, as he called it, brought his patient through. We've just got to try it here, Jack, old fellow. Hello! what d'ye suppose all that row's about?"

"Sounds to me like a runaway horse, from the shouts," declared Jack, quickly forgetting his own personal troubles in the new excitement.

"Look! There's the runaway, and coming this way around the corner. Oh! it was nearly over that time! My heart was in my mouth!" cried Paul.

"There's some one in the wagon, Paul, a little child!" almost shrieked Jack; for the clamor was deafening by now, and ordinary sounds could never have been heard.

No need to tell Paul that. He had just made the astounding discovery himself, and was thrilled with sudden horror.

It was a little boy who was tugging at the lines with a heroism worthy of one twice his size; but such a young person could make no impression on the hard mouth of that terrorized animal.

In the sudden whirl around the corner the lad had come very near being thrown but, and was even now unsteadily trying to regain his balance.

Paul knew that it was an occasion for quick thinking, and even faster doing!

He bounded away from the side of his chum as though on springs, leaving Jack standing there on the curb, filled with eager anticipation, and fears.

It was not toward the rapidly advancing horse that the boy ran, but in exactly the opposite direction, as though he were being chased. With the wagon flinging about from side to side, and hindering the progress of the runaway to some extent, Paul believed that he could almost hold his own in the race.

Little by little he meant to let the horse overtake him. Then, at just the right second his chance would come to jump at the animal's head, seize upon the lines close to the bit, and throw his entire weight upon them.

He knew that it called for good judgment, since the slightest mistake would be apt to cost him dear. To be thrown under the iron-shod hoofs of the galloping animal might mean making him a cripple for the rest of his life.

Even that possibility did not daunt Paul. He only saw the frightened face of the little chap who so valorously clung to the lines, and shouted shrilly at the top of his childish voice, as though expecting the usually tractable horse to mind.

A human life in peril—that was one of the cardinal points that must call for action on the part of a true Boy Scout. He might refuse to engage in a sanguinary battle with some rival who had dared him to a fight; but under no conditions must he hold back when the chance offered to do a good deed.

Now the horse was just behind him, and still galloping furiously. If anything, the animal was making more desperate headway than ever, for the outcries on every side seemed to add to his fright.

Every eye was focussed on the runner. One man in a vehicle had drawn in his horse, and with white cheeks watched the remarkable scene.

If any among that throng had reason to send up a silent prayer for the safety of that daring lad just then, surely he might. For the man in the buggy was Doctor Alan Morrison, Paul's own father!

Five seconds passed, but it seemed an hour, a day, a life-time to that man, as his heart ceased to beat, and he gripped the reins convulsively in his clenched hands.

Then the heavens seemed to almost split with the sudden outburst of wild shouts that raced up and down that street.

"He's done it! Hurrah! The boy's stopped him! Bully for Paul Morrison!"

Men shouted, boys shrieked, while women embraced in their tears. The tense strain was over, for willing hands had clutched the lines after Paul's weight had brought the wild runaway to a staggering halt; and the danger was past.

Then ensued a wild scene, everybody trying to get hold of the boy who had known what to do in an emergency, and not only that, but had done it.

Confused, overwhelmed, Paul in the great confusion tried to flee; but while he did manage to duck under many of the hands outstretched to clutch him, it was only to dart into the arms of some one who pressed him to his heart.

And looking up the boy saw above him the face of one whom he loved—his father, who had been a witness to his adventure.

"That was well done, my boy; and I'm glad I saw it!" was all the good doctor said; but Paul never forgot the proud look that accompanied the words.

It would return to him many times in the distant future, when he might be tempted by the fascinations of the world to turn aside from the narrow path which he had chosen to tread; and must ever be a guide and beacon for his footsteps.

Then came Jack, with William, Tom Betts and Bluff Shipley, all nearly wild over the fact that it was their chum who had acquitted himself so well.

Before Paul could make his escape he found his hand gripped by the father of the child in the wagon, who happened to be a prosperous farmer, with whom Doctor Morrison was well acquainted.

"I never could tell you what I think about this, my boy," he said, with deep feeling. "The child's mother'll never forget you, be sure of that. And it ain't right for me to offer you any reward for doing such a fine thing; but I want you to buy something with this ten dollars, that every time you look at it you'll remember little Tod Perkins, what owed his life to you."

"Oh! I couldn't think of it, Mr. Perkins. Why, it was just pie to me, you know. Please don't make me take it!" said the boy, still more confused; but the farmer had already turned away to embrace his child, and there seemed nothing for it but to accept the gift.

"Don't offend him by refusing, Paul; he means well, and perhaps you can buy something with it that will serve as a reminder," said the doctor, always trying to avoid hurting other people's feelings.

"Why, sure, what's to hinder you buying your scout's uniform with it?" declared William at this juncture.

"You certain earned it, if anybody ever did work for what they got!" avowed Bobolink, positively.

"Oh! w-w-why wasn't it m-m-me?" wailed Bluff, in pretended grief.

"Say, do you think you could have nailed that runaway horse, with such an impediment twisting you up?" demanded Bobolink, grinning.

"Well, boys, since you say so, I suppose then I'll just have to accept it, and call my outfit earned by the sweat of my brow," laughed Paul, taking out his handkerchief to wipe his face from its collection of perspiration and dust.

CHAPTER X

AN UNEXPECTED OFFER

Paul and his chum managed to break away finally, and walk toward the home of the latter. Jack had his arm through that of the other, and it seemed as though he felt happier over the recent exploit than the one who had occupied the centre of the stage.

"My heart seemed to be up in my mouth just when you made that grab for the bit. I believe I would have fallen in a fit if you had gone under, Paul," said Jack, with a big sigh, as he pressed the arm he held.

"Well, I was a little worried myself that something might upset me just then. But luck favored me, you know. I'm more than glad, because it would have given my mother a bad shock if I'd been trampled on. But please drop that subject, old fellow," said Paul, making a wry face.

"I will, since you ask it; but they won't forget it in the town for a long time. Such things happen only once a year or more around dull old Stanhope. To-night we meet to see how many have the money earned for the suits; and I'm glad to say I can cover my needs. You're doubly supplied now, with this windfall."

"Yes, and I wish I could help some other fellow out; but I'm afraid that would be against the rules of the game. Here we are at your house, and bless me if Carlo hasn't carried that basket of provisions straight back to the kitchen door. Say, he is a trump, sure enough, Jack."

"Oh! that's dead easy for Carlo. Why, we often put a nickel in the basket, and send him down to the bakery for a loaf of bread," laughed the other.

"And does he always get it?" asked Paul, looking suddenly interested.

"I don't believe he's failed for six months. Of course Mr. Crusty knows what we want, and wraps the loaf up so as to keep the dust off. Why, that ain't the best of his tricks, by a long shot. I taught him when he was hungry to go—"

"Excuse me, won't you, Jack; there comes father, and I do believe he's heading home long before his usual time. Perhaps he's afraid mother may hear that something has happened to me, and would be anxious. I'd better jump in with him, don't you think? Another time I'll hear all about the wonderful stunts of Carlo."

And so speaking Paul ran out to join his father in the buggy.

Jack looked after him, and sighed heavily. It was not that he felt a particle jealous of the recent exploit which his chum had engineered so successfully; for envy was not one of his failings. But he did wish that his mind was as free from anxiety and suspicion as that of Paul Morrison.

For the mystery of those disappearing coins hung about his neck like a millstone, nor could he ever know peace again until in some way it were explained.

What happened at the Morrison home when the doctor told the story of his boy's heroism no one ever knew; for Paul was not the one to betray family secrets.

But Jack, who understood what an affectionate mother his chum had, could easily imagine how she wrapped her arms about the boy, and pressed him again and again to her bosom, thanking Heaven that the child she had watched grow from babyhood until he was now almost as tall as his father, should show signs of proving himself a worthy successor to the "good Doctor," as every one knew him.

That night the boys had the darkness to contend with when they started for the place of meeting, though the late moon might show her smiling face before the time came for them to return home.

There were just twenty-two who reported at roll call that evening at eight, and one need only glance around at the faces of the boys, both large and small, to be positive that the enthusiasm, instead of dying out, was increasing by leaps and bounds.

When the meeting had been called to order, the one subject that interested those gathered was the question of obtaining their uniforms and other outfit.

A warm discussion arose shortly when Jack asked for information concerning the right of any scout to assist a fellow member who might be behind in earning the necessary amount.

Some believed one way, while others seemed to look at it in another light, and not a few were, as Jack said, "on the fence."

"Listen, fellows, and I'll tell you what I gathered from studying the books on the Boy Scout movement loaned me by the minister. Here are twenty or more of us, and we need just so much money for an outfit. Some can show much more than they need, others fall short, although they may have worked even harder. Is that plain?" and Jack looked around at the eager faces as he put the question.

"It certainly is," remarked Paul, smiling; "some are born rich, others earn riches, and once in a while some lucky chap has the money stuck right in his hand. I'm one of the last class. But go on, Jack; for I know you've got a bright idea that may help us out of this hole."

"The answer is easy, fellows. We must make a common fund. Then every member can put in all he wants, so long as it has been honestly earned. See my plan?"

"Sure, and it goes. That's the answer to the problem. Let's try it out and see how near we can come to the amount needed," said Jud Elderkin, briskly; starting to pass around slips of paper and a pencil.

"Put down what you can hand over to the general fund, each fellow; and remember it means cash, to be delivered to-morrow, and not credit," he announced.

There was the utmost eagerness to carry out the idea, and before five minutes had passed every boy had written his name on a slip of paper, together with the full amount which he could contribute to the general fund.

"I appoint Jud and Bobolink a committee to canvass the vote, and count up the amount subscribed," said Paul, as chairman of the meeting.

It did not take very long, though the two boys were seen to go over their figures several times in order to make sure there could be no error.

"Look at the grins on their faces! Don't that tell the story, fellows! Hurrah!" shouted Nuthin'.

And when the amount was declared it was found that it far exceeded the actual sum needed to purchase uniforms for the entire twenty-two scouts, including hats and leggings.

"Don't forget that I've just got to have a bugle, fellows. What use is it to be elected bugler if you can't bugle?" exclaimed Bobolink.

"And m-m-me for a d-d-d-d-d-drum!" echoed Bluff, excitedly; when he was immediately pounced upon as usual, and pounded several times on the back.

"Yes, do get Bluff something he can beat. I've heard him drum, and he's just a corker at it. It keeps him from talking, you know," laughed Tom Betts.

"Hello!" exclaimed Nuthin' suddenly; "look who's here, fellows!"

All eyes were immediately turned toward the door, and focussed upon the figure that stood just within the barn, having entered while they were boisterously exchanging these compliments.

"Why, it's Mr. Growdy!" said Paul.

"Old Peleg!" echoed Bobolink, in a hushed tone.

One and all stared at the crusty old farmer, who for years had avoided all boys as though he thought them a dangerous breed of animals which it were safer to let severely alone.

When Paul saw the amused smile creeping over the rugged and seamed face of the old farmer he understood that Peleg had really experienced a wonderful change of heart, dating from that night when the new Boy Scouts cleaned up his dooryard as an object lesson.

And now Peleg was coming slowly forward, looking a bit awkward; since he had never been accustomed to facing an audience, and especially one composed of boys.

They made way for him, so that presently he found himself completely surrounded by an eager throng.

"Glad to see you, Mr. Growdy," said Paul, holding out his hand impulsively; and to the surprise of the others it was eagerly seized upon by the calloused fingers of the toiler in the fields; "these are the friends I spoke to you about. And this is the Fox Patrol of the newly organized Boy Scouts."

Peleg grinned, and acknowledged the introduction by ducking his touseled head.

"Glad to meet ye, boys. I've be'n hearin' quite considerable 'bout what ye was adoin' over here, an' I thort as how I'd jest drap in to see ye all; sorter like returnin' yer call, so to speak!" he said, again allowing a humorous look to appear upon his face.

And somehow the boys instantly concluded that when Peleg allowed the lines of his severe face to relax, he was rather a jolly old chap after all.

"Hurrah! Three cheers for Mr. Peleg Growdy!" exclaimed one of those who felt relieved to think that his coming meant no trouble after all.

But the farmer raised his hand.

"Jest wait till I has my little say, boys. Now, at fust I was kinder riled that a passel o' boys shud 'a' took me to task on account o' my way o' lettin' things run loose like at my place. But I gotter thinkin' her over, and by hokey if it didn't jest come home to me. Times was when my dooryard was the puttiest around all Stanhope, with the flowers abloomin', an' every scrap tidied up; but in them happy days Mandy an' the kids was there, ye see; an' sense they was took it 'peared like I never cared what things looked like; an' that's a fact, boys."

The old man seemed to swallow something that threatened to choke him; and then, while the boys hung on his every word, and wondered how they had ever come to misunderstand him as they had, he went on:

"But I kim to the conclusion, arter thet kind visit ye paid me, thet I owed a duty to the community, and it warn't right for any citizen to let his place look disgraceful. So arter this nobody ain't agoin' to be ashamed to pass by the yard where Mandy 'tended the rose bushes, and her tots played from morn to night. I jest drapped in here to thank ye right hearty boys, for showin' me wot was wantin'. Arter this there ain't never agoin' to be any trouble between me an' the boys o' Stanhope. They kin count on old Peleg Growdy to contribute to every sport that goes to cultivate the mind and body in the right direction!"

He seemed a vastly different man as he stood there and said this, for his head was thrown back, his eyes flashed, and his face was almost friendly in its expression, the old haggard look having for the time being disappeared.

"Again I say, three cheers for Mr. Growdy!" called Joe Clausin.

"Wait a bit, fellers. I got somethin' more to say," pleaded the old man, once again lifting his hand to still the rising tumult.

Paul smiled, for he could give a pretty shrewd guess as to what was coming; and it certainly did him good to realize how their odd little scheme was turning out to be such a glorious success.

Every voice was hushed, and once more the throng waited for the farmer to explain.

"I've been ahearin' a good lot about wot ye're all adoin' with this Boy Scout business. Kinder got me interested, an' I borried some books o' the dominie jest so I could understand wot 'twas all about. An' I want to say I like the ijee fust rate. If I hed any boys o' my own," and his voice faltered right there, "I'd sure encourage 'em to jine in with ye. Seein' as I ain't, an' on account o' the good turn ye done me t'other night, boys, I'm goin' to ask a favor o' ye. I ain't got nary a kid to leave my money to when I go; and so I hope ye'll let me pay for fittin' this here Fox Patrol out with uniforms! That's my ijee, boys, an' it'll give me great joy if so be ye take me up!"

They looked at each other for a minute, speechless with astonishment.

Then being real boys they found their voices with a rush. No need now for Tom Butts or Joe Clausin to suggest three cheers. That old barn fairly rocked with the volume of sound that burst forth, as every fellow swung his hat in the air, and tried his best to give his feelings free rein.

CHAPTER XI

CAUGHT NAPPING

"Silence!"

The tumult died away as quickly as it had sprung into being, when Paul held up his right hand and made this request.

All being still again, he turned to the grinning old farmer, who was doubtless getting more solid satisfaction out of this new experience than he had obtained from any clever dicker or trade engineered in the last ten years.

"Mr. Growdy," said Paul, with considerable of feeling in his voice, "as the present scout leader of Stanhope Troop No. 1 of the Boy Scouts, I want to thank you sincerely for your generous offer. We all appreciate the kindly spirit that causes you to make it to us. But unfortunately it happens that the rules of our organization will not allow us to accept."

Peleg's face fell several degrees at this.

"Say, couldn't ye jest make an exception this time, boys?" he pleaded. "I'll feel right hurt if I ain't 'lowed to help on this business some. Wot's a hundred dollars beside the new speerit ye've managed somehow to start up in me? If ye need more, by gum! ye kin hev it! I ain't no hog, if I hev let the people think so this long time."

"Sorry to say so, Mr. Growdy, but we can't accept. Besides, we have all earned enough money now to pay for what we need, and expect to send away to-morrow to get our suits," Paul went on; and even while he was talking a bright idea came flashing into his brain.

"Wall, now that's jest too bad, boys. I'd calkerlated to spend that hundred on doin' a good deed, an' ye make me go back home with the same hugged tight in my pocket. I'm sorry it cain't be did, I am, sure," muttered the farmer, shaking his head, and acting like a child that has been cheated out of some anticipated pleasure.

"That doesn't follow, Mr. Growdy," said Paul, in a low but thrilling voice; "if you have set your mind on using that hundred dollars to do a good work, perhaps I might give you a hint where it would fit in mighty well, and make your heart feel warm."

"Hey! wot's that, Paul? I don't understand," exclaimed the man.

"Down just beyond the outskirts of Stanhope there lives a poor widow woman who, I'm told, is in danger of being put out of her home any day now because she has been sick and unable to work so as to pay her rent. If you went to her right now, Mr. Growdy, and put that wad of money in her hand, I'm sure you'd never regret it, sir; and every boy here would thank you just as much as if you paid for his uniform. Isn't that so, fellows?"

A chorus of shouts testified to the fact that Paul had hit upon a popular idea for turning the sudden generosity of the hitherto miserly old farmer to account.

"Who is the woman?" asked Peleg Growdy uneasily.

"Mrs. Jenks, who has three little children to support. Her husband was killed in that blast some years ago, and she never recovered a cent from the mining company, for they burst like a bubble," returned Paul.

"By gum! wot d'ye know about that, now? I reckons as how she lives in one o' my own cottages, which the real estate man, Stebbins, takes keer of fur me. He was tellin' me about some tenant he'd have to put out; but I never noticed more'n that the name was Jenks."

"But now?" ventured Paul.

"It won't be did! No, sir, not by a jugful. I got my team outside, an' I'm goin' straight over to see the widder. I knowed her husband onct too, an' I'm some 'shamed thet I didn't look her up afore," and Peleg started for the door.

"Hold on, Mr. Growdy!" called Paul.

"Hey! wot's doin' now, boys?" demanded the old man, turning to grin again at his new host of young friends.

"You oughtn't to leave here, sir, without giving every boy scout the privilege of shaking hands with you. I'm sure I speak for each fellow when I ask that favor," returned Paul, stepping forward.

Peleg was agreeable, though he blushed like a schoolboy as the scouts, forming in line, walked past him, each seizing his horny hand eagerly, and doing his best to make the old farmer wince with the warmth of his squeeze.

They gave him a parting cheer as he passed out, and the old fellow tried to return the military salute to the best of his ability.

"Well, what do you think of that?" asked Nuthin', when they were once more gathered around their leader for the purpose of further discussion.

"The finest thing that could possibly have happened. We had our frolic; and see what it hatched. After this Peleg Growdy will never be the same grumpy man he was in the past. No boy need longer hesitate to call out to him on the street; for Peleg, I take it, has seen a great light, eh, Jack?" and Paul slapped his chum heartily on the shoulder as he spoke.

"My idea exactly," replied his chum, quickly. "And do you know it made me feel bad the way he spoke of Mandy and the kids. Some of you fellows may not know that he lost his wife and children in a fire that burned his house down while he was away. I'm glad we did that job, and you deserve the praise, Paul, because it was your own scheme."

"Humbug! every one of you chimed in as soon as it was mentioned, and so you're entitled to as much praise as I am. But about those uniforms, boys—hadn't the scout tailor better get to work, going over his measurements again? We want the suits to fit all right, you know."

And in this way did Paul direct the attention of his comrades in another quarter, because it was really unpleasant for him to be placed on a pedestal, as though he were different from the rest of them.

Amid much laughter and joking the measuring went on. Wallace Carberry wielded the tape-line, and Bobolink put down the figures, being closely patched so that no errors could possibly creep in.

So engrossed were they in this interesting business, that no one paid the least attention to their surroundings.

And when a heavy shutter was slowly closed over the one large window of the tobacco barn, the fact went unnoticed.

In fact the meeting was about ready to disband, and one of the boys started for the door to be in advance of his friends, when he made a discovery.

"Who locked this door, fellows?" he called, as he tried in vain to budge the barrier.

Of course this drew the attention of all the rest, and a rush was made for the place of exit. One by one the boys tried to push the door open, but even the stoutest of them failed to accomplish it.

"Who was the last one in?" demanded Bobolink, furiously, as he retired, worsted from the encounter, to allow another a chance at the door.

"Old Peleg Growdy, to be sure; and the door wasn't fastened then. D'ye suppose he did anything to it when he went out?" asked William, as he tried to assist Jud, now straining and pushing in a useless endeavor to move the heavy door.

"That's nonsense," said Paul, as he pointed to the fact that the door could not be locked, since it gave an inch or so each time the boys pushed.

"Ginger! it's got something braced against it outside, that's what!" announced another fellow.

"As sure as you're born it has!" echoed Bobolink.

All doubt was dissipated just then, for a series of loud and derisive shouts in boyish treble welled up from outside.

"Shucks!" grunted Bobolink, in sheer disgust; "we've gone and let the Slavin fellers have another crack at us. A nice lot of scouts we look like, not to keep sentries on duty when we have a secret meeting. And now they've got us cooped up here like a lot of old hens! Shucks! I say again!"

"Well, that's no reason we have to stay cooped up, is it?" demanded Jack, as he turned to hunt around for some object which could be used for a battering ram so as to force the barricaded door of the barn.

"T-t-try the b-b-big wagon doors, fellows!" whooped Bluff.

They did, but with no more success than had attended their puny efforts against the smaller exit. Those who had been at work while they talked must have done a good job, for the big doors were utterly immovable.

"Do we have to stay in here until morning?" wailed Andy Flinn, in mock despair.

"Not much, if I have to climb up to the roof, and knock a plank off. Say, those fellows must have been spying out here when I met them this morning," said Bobolink.

"Listen now, what d'ye suppose they're doing?" demanded Nuthin'.

All remained in an attitude of expectancy, and could hear strange sounds that seemed to come from under the boards forming the floor of the barn; which building had not always been used for drying tobacco alone.

"Now what d'ye suppose the sillies are poking poles under there, for?" ejaculated William; "and just when I was going to propose that we pull up a board, and crawl through the hole."

"Whew! what's this mean? Say, fellows, if that don't make me think of a blessed old skunk I don't know the odor when I meet it!" and Wallace drew back as he was about to get down on his hands and knees to investigate the meaning of the odd sounds under the barn flooring.

Others got it quickly, and various cries arose, as the boys began to hold their noses, and look around at each other.

"It'll smother us, fellows, that's what!" gasped William, quite pale by now; for the odor which a skunk leaves in its wake affects some persons powerfully, though others hardly mind it at all.

"I know!" Bluff managed to gasp, with a great effort; "there's a f-f-family of s-s-skunks have their h-h-home under here. I've seen 'em, b-b-but I never b-b-bothered the b-b-beauties. Oh! ain't it j-j-just awful, f-f-fellows?"

It certainly was.

Stirred up by the poles wielded by Ted Slavin and his cronies, who must have discovered the presence of the polecats when visiting the barn that morning, and laid their plans accordingly, the little animals were using the only means of defence against an enemy granted them by Nature.

William actually keeled over, and his brother had to drag him to the further end of the barn so that he might not get the full benefit of the overpowering scent.

"Something's just got to be done!" cried Jack, himself not feeling any too well under the infliction.

"Here, help me lift this old beam, boys. We can make a battering ram out of it, and burst a board off somehow. Never mind the damages; they can be repaired easy enough. Two more get hold. Now, swing around this way. I think the weakest place is in the rear. Keep back, the rest of you. Here goes!"

Five others had been only too willing to lend a hand when Paul called for volunteers. The beam that had been lying against the further wall was good and heavy; but that made it all the better as an engine for ramming a hole through the boarded side of the barn.

Amid the cheers of the scouts the novel battering ram was carried forward with a will, and on the run. Some of the boys held up lanterns so that those who were in the line of attack could see just where to strike. Even poor overcome William managed to raise his head, and feebly wave a hand of encouragement.

The beam struck with tremendous force, and nothing in the way of a plain ordinary boarding could withstand the impetus with which it was driven forward.

"Whoop!" yelled the scouts, as a big aperture appeared in the side of the barn, and the route to liberty lay before them.

They were not slow to avail themselves of the privilege either, but hastened to scramble through the gap, carrying the lanterns with them. William managed to get up enough steam to crawl outside, where he could breath air that was not fetid, and filled with overpowering odors.

Only Bluff looked back half regretfully at the haven of refuge they had just quitted. For he was wondering how his father could ever manage to efface that scent so that the tobacco, soon to be harvested, might be hung up in that barn without detracting from its marketable value.

And once out of the trap the Boy Scouts began to chase around, with vengeance in their eyes; but as on previous occasions the wary enemy, after accomplishing their mischief, had been wise enough to slink away.

CHAPTER XII

THE RIVAL TROOPS

"How far do we have to go in this new plan of forgiving the enemy, Paul?" asked William, who had by now fully recovered from his recent weakness, and was burning with zeal to avenge himself upon their persecutors.

"Yes, this thing has got to have a limit!" declared Jud Elderkin, as he glared around at the moonlit scene, and no doubt imagined their rivals hiding near by, where they could laugh at the disturbed group.

Paul knew boy nature too well to stretch their patience beyond the breaking point. He was astonished that such fire-eaters as Bluff, William, and several more, could restrain themselves even as well as they had.

To keep them in hand the reins must be loosened a little; but only to enable him to get a better hold later on.

"Well, there's no positive rule, fellows; and so far as I can see I believe the limit has already been passed, with us," he said, pleasantly.

"Hurrah! that's the kind of talk!" cried the inflammable Twin.

"Then you give us permission to pitch in, and whale the whole bunch the next time they play one of their measly old tricks on us? Is that so, Paul?" demanded Jud.

"Oh! I only h-h-hope so!" came from Bluff.

"Wait till the time comes, and perhaps I'll help you give them a much-needed lesson. We don't want to play the worm part, always," remarked Paul; "and now, boys, let's head for home."

"Ta-ta, sweet little meeting-house on the edge of the woods; I'll carry fond memories of you as long as this suit of clothes lasts, I guess," said William, waving his hand mockingly backward toward the deserted barn.

"Watch out for some of those Slavin fellows on the road. They may bombard us from the woods with rocks!" warned Joe Clausin.

"Just let 'em try, that's all. We'll chase the stone thrower to a standstill, and then he'll be sorry he wandered away from his happy home this night!" Bobolink declared, ferociously.

So they walked along in detached groups, many eyes were on the alert, and listening ears bent to catch some sign of a lurking foe.

Once or twice they heard signals being exchanged deep in the woods, evidently by the scattered cohorts of Ted; but while valiant, the members of the Fox Patrols were wise and prudent as well, copying the cautious attributes of the wary animal after which their new organization had been named.

They declined to explore the dense forest, seeking a foe that might only be bent on luring them along, until ready to pounce on them in a body, to make them prisoners of war.

And so finally the march came to an end, with all hands satisfied that the last meeting of the little host of new scouts had been attended by several of the most exciting circumstances that ever befell the boys of Stanhope.

Paul and his chum walked on together, until reaching the first home they said good night. But neither again brought up that subject which had been worrying Jack Stormways for so long a time.

If Paul had conceived any sort of an idea in connection with the strange disappearance of the old coins, he kept it to himself.

Once, however, on the way home after leaving Jack, he stopped to clap his hand down vigorously on his knee, and whispered to himself:

"Now, I wonder if that could possibly be so?"

But no matter what idea had struck him, further words didn't come to tell whether his thoughts were connected with Jack's personal trouble; or on the other hand if the annoying enmity of Ted Slavin, Ward Kenwood, and their would-be scout troop, was still on his mind.

Nevertheless, as Paul passed up to the front door of his home, and stopped a minute to look up at the bright moon sailing across the eastern heavens, he considered that he had good reason to feel more than satisfied with the magnificent results already attending the new methods of the Boy Scouts.

On the following day he sent off the letter containing a check which his father gave him in place of the money, so that it might not be lost.

Then followed a period of anxious waiting, during which many of the members of the Stanhope Troop No. 1 felt touches of envy at sight of their rivals parading the streets, decked out in the full regalia of Scouts, and carrying themselves with the proudest of airs.

They knew that Ted and Ward were busily engaged in drilling their followers in many of the devices prominently mentioned in the manual book. For that matter, though, it did not require regulation suits of khaki to excel in those same things; and so the Foxes also studied and experimented, and burned candles at night in the endeavor to learn all that was possible of those various accomplishments.

There was a great difference in the boys of the town.

Few who were of the proper age but who belonged to one or the other of the troops; and people were beginning to notice how much more manly they carried themselves, and how anxious they seemed now to get credit marks at home.

Parents upon meeting never failed to talk about this wonderful change, and express hopes that it would last.

"The best thing that ever happened, barring none, I think," was what the old minister declared, at a meeting of the Women's Club; "and it deserves to be encouraged. Why, you ladies should take advantage of this wave of reform, to get these lads interested in keeping the streets of the town clean. Give me fifty willing workers among the boys, and I warrant you there will never be a stray piece of paper blowing around. They'll provide receptacles for trash, and see that everybody uses them."

And so it went around, and everybody seemed delighted at the innovation. Only a few skeptical old fogies shook their heads, and declared that it was too good to last, and that they about expected to see the boys of Stanhope transplanted to the heavens in a body presently, since their wings must be sprouting.

About this time it came to the ears of Paul that the banner which the peace-loving Quaker, Mr. Westervelt, had offered for the most proficient troop of scouts along the Bushkill, had been placed on exhibition in the window of a jewelry store over in the manufacturing town of Manchester.

He and Jack wheeled over that very day to inspect the coveted trophy. When they saw what a beauty it was, their hearts thrilled with new aspirations.

"Worth fighting hard for, eh, Paul?" observed Jack.

"I should say, yes," replied the other, delight written in big letters on his face, pressed so close to the glass; "and I reckon it would do our fellows lots of good just to run down here to look at that dandy banner. I must tell them all about it, and have them see it for themselves."

"A bully good idea. You know how to get a fellow to put his best licks into any job he undertakes," declared his chum, admiringly.

"Humbug!" scornfully replied Paul; "why, it's as easy as falling off a log. Don't you feel more like straining every nerve in the effort to win that prize, after seeing how handsome it is? Well, I just try to believe every fellow is more or less like I am. That's the whole secret. Yes, Stanhope must work hard to catch up with the other fellows."

There were several boys standing around, also gaping at the fine snowy banner, upon which as the card under it, went on to state, was to be embroidered with colored silk the totem of the leading patrol of the successful troop.

These fellows could not help knowing who the strangers in town were; and it was also easy for them to guess what had brought Paul and Jack down there. More than a few times had they seen these Stanhope boys competing on the athletic field, either in baseball, or football. And of course it was always good form for Manchester lads to "josh" any would-be rivals.

"Yes," said one of the natives, with a grin, "up in that corner is where the eagle is going to be painted. And every time we go on a hike we'll carry that banner at the head of the procession."

"They say," remarked another, with pretended innocence, "that poor old Stanhope is getting up a troop, and even hopes to have a try for this beauty. Now, what do you think about the nerve of that, fellows?"

"Oh! well, the more the merrier," came from a third, whom Paul knew to be the scout leader of the "Eagles" in person, "and after all, we don't mind showing these tenderfeet scouts how to do stunts. None of us want to be hogs, boys. There's room enough for all, even if some do have to eat the husks."

Paul had to laugh out loud at this.

"Say, you're on to us, all right, Manchester," he said, turning around. "Yes, we've come down here just to take a peep at this great prize. Of course we'd like mighty well to say we meant to win it; but we're too modest for that. The most we admit is that we mean to make a try for it. Of course we haven't got much show against two such veteran troops as Manchester and Aldine; but we want to get all the fun out of the game we can. And you won't begrudge us that, Claypool?"

"Sure we won't, Morrison," returned the other, frankly, thrusting out his hand; "as I said before, the more in it the better. It will make our victory look bigger."

"Glad to see you're so dead sure of winning out," laughed Paul; "whenever the Stanhope boys go into anything they always work harder if they have big odds against them. But all the same that's a bully good banner, and no matter whether it has an eagle, the head of a beaver, or that of a fox worked on it in colored silk, it's going to be something we'll all be proud of as Boy Scouts."

"That's well put, Morrison; though you might just as well get it out of your head now as later that the Manchester fellows will ever let any crowd come in here and take that dandy flag away. Why, our fellows know ten times as much about scout tactics as your greenhorns do now."

Claypole did not mean to be overbearing; when he said this he really believed it to be an actual fact.

"That's very true," said Paul, quietly, as he and his chum prepared to mount their wheels for the return journey; "but Thanksgiving is still more than two months off; and Claypole, I give you my word, we've got some of the smartest tenderfeet in the Stanhope troop you ever heard of. Ta-ta, boys!"

Of course, when Paul and Jack told what they had seen, every fellow wanted to make the run over to Manchester to look for himself. And, just as Paul had expected, they came back home more than ever enthused with the hope and prospect of winning that royal banner for the Stanhope troop.

At the next meeting the talk was all about the prize, and a vote was even taken to ascertain to whom the honor of being the banner bearer might fall, in case the victory was awarded to Stanhope. Wallace Carberry turned out to be the lucky standard bearer.

All of which was just what clever Paul wanted. He had infused a new stimulant into the veins of his comrades. And at their next outdoor rally, when various contests were undertaken to discover who showed the most skill, he found that the very atmosphere seemed to be surcharged with electricity; for the boys labored to excel as they had never done before; but it was because each one believed that upon his shoulders alone devolved the duty of bringing that beautiful prize to Stanhope.

Four days later the expected suits arrived, much sooner than even the most sanguine had anticipated.

Then there was a time.

The usually quiet and peaceful streets of the town were fairly filled with khaki-clad warriors, strutting up and down, exchanging military salutes, and arousing the admiration of all the girls, who came forth to gaze and applaud.

It was a great day for Stanhope. A stranger visiting there for the first time might think some military academy must have taken up fall quarters near by, and granted full liberty to its uniformed hosts.

If there were those who had been hesitating about joining either of the troops, a decision must certainly follow the first glimpse of those gallant uniforms.

That night many a lad ate supper as an honored guest at his father's table; for surely the wearer of a uniform must be entitled to unusual privileges.

Of course the word had gone around for a meeting of the Stanhope No. 1. But it was not to be held at the Shipley barn—oh! no, those boys had had "quite a sufficiency," as Bobolink said, of their former quarters; and Bluff admitted that his father would not dare use the building again that year for his tobacco crop.

Jason Carberry, father of the twins, had asked as a favor that they make use of his big smithy; and since the night air was cool, Paul had accepted this generous proposition of the blacksmith on the spot.

So that was where they came together, a uniformed organization, at last.

CHAPTER XIII

"FIRE!"

"Man the bellows, somebody."

"Yes, stir up the fire in that forge, William. It's the coldest September night on record, and that's a fact!" exclaimed Bobolink, as he pushed the lively member of the Carberry team toward the smouldering fire left by the blacksmith when he gave over his capacious smithy to the Boy Scouts for their meeting.

"M-m-my dad s-s-says he once lost his t-t-t-tobacco c-crop in S-s-september!" observed Bluff, shaking his head as he pushed toward the fire.

The boys had had a fine meeting.

Besides the twenty-two in their new uniforms, four new recruits had been present, to drink in with eager ears all that passed, and sigh for the day to come when they too might shine forth in such resplendant suits.

Already was there much rivalry shown in the many competitions which the young scout leaders had instituted. There was a class on aviation, another that had taken up the mysteries of camping with all its fascinating details; a third chose photography as the most entrancing subject, and exhibited many pictures that were to be entered in the great contest of the county for the banner.

Then several boys had doubled, for surely the knowledge of cookery went hand in hand with that of camping; while a good stalker could at the same time enter for a merit badge in the path-finding line.

Besides, though the season was late for swimming, several fellows who knew just what their best accomplishment might be, had qualified to enter this class.

On the whole the meeting had been a most interesting one. Every scout was burning with enthusiasm, and many were the resolutions that Stanhope must have what Bobolink called a "show-in," with regard to that coveted banner, which was to fall to the leading patrol of the county.

They were now almost ready to "break camp" for the evening, and before doing so indulged in a little general talk. Many had ideas which they wished to advance, in order to discover what the attitude of their comrades might be.

"Mr. Chairman," said Wallace Carberry, when he found a little lull in the buzz of conversation, "I have a proposition I'd like to put before the meeting before we disband."

"Hear! hear!" shouted several of the boys, notably those who had been seen in close confab with Wallace, and hence probably in touch with his scheme.

"All right, Number Seven; let's hear what it is," replied Paul, readily.

Every member of each patrol had a number. These began with the scout leader, who of course had to take the "initial sack," as Bobolink, still baseball wild, put it. Jack, as his assistant in control, came as Number Two; Bobolink next; Bluff captured Four as his distinguishing feature; Nuthin' being Five, and the twins the next pair, for it would never do to separate William and Wallace, while Tom Betts was Eighth and last.

"If the gentlemen present will give me the floor, with the privilege of three minutes in which to explain what I have in mind, I will be glad to comply."

Wallace was very precise in his way of putting things. This did not happen only when in school, or as he stood up to address a meeting of his chums. He could not unbend his dignity even under the most trivial conditions.

William was just the reverse; and so full of frolic and fun that the boys always declared the pair to be unequally matched, since in disposition they were exact opposites.

And yet under it all there was the same abiding affection that generally may be found between twins.

"Hear! hear!" shouted the boys once more.

"Let's have it, Wallace, old sport. It's bound to be a jim-dandy idea!" declared a loud voice that seemed to spring from the ceiling; but no one was deceived, for they knew only too well how Bobolink could throw his voice pretty much where he pleased.

"Silence!"

When Paul, who in the absence of a regular scout master, occupied the chair, uttered this one word every sound ceased; and after that there was no excuse for Wallace to hesitate longer.

"Some of us have been talking it over, Mr. Chairman, and we would respectfully request that you name an early date when we can go out into the woods for several tests of skill. There is much keen rivalry among a number of us already, which can only be settled by an open trial. First of all there is the interesting water-boiling test of woodmanship. We want to know who is the leading light in that class so we may push him forward to enter the general competition with other Boy Scout troops. Am I understood, Mr. Chairman?"

"I think you have made your meaning plain, and the one particular competition you mention happens to be the most interesting of all," replied Paul.

"Then may we hope that you will name an early day for the trial to come off? Unfortunately school begins shortly now, and outside of Saturdays and holidays the several Fox patrols may not have much chance to practice before the grand trial comes off. Make it as early as possible, Mr. Chairman."

"How would to-morrow do?" asked Paul, only too anxious himself to ascertain how the boys would "toe the mark."

Wallace looked at his backers, and there were vigorous nods in answer to the question seen upon his face.

"It seems to be the unanimous consensus of opinion, Mr. Chairman, that to-morrow would suit first rate. Please give us the hour for assembling, and you can depend on our being on deck," Wallace remarked.

"Two o'clock ought to answer. That will give us plenty of time to try out a lot of stunts I shall arrange for."

"Where shall we meet?" asked Jud Elderkin.

"H-h-how about our b-b-barn, fellows?" queried Bluff, grinning.

There was an instantaneous howl of derision, and every right hand went up so that the thumb and forefinger might compress a nose.

"Another year might do, Bluff!" called one.

"What isn't fit for storing tobacco can't be a proper meeting place for respectable Boy Scouts!" declared another, energetically.

"Oh! he's only bluffing, fellows; don't mind him!"

"In fancy I can smell it now," sang another, mockingly.

"We'll meet just outside this very blacksmith shop, and at two sharp," declared the chairman, decisively; "and any scout who is tardy will be given one or more bad marks that he must carry as a load in the competition. Punctuality is a leading trait in Stanhope Troop No. 1, you understand. Any other proposition?"

The boys began to talk among themselves, and for a short time there was a constant buzz that sounded like a big hive of bees.

Jack found himself in contact with Paul while this was going on. He had been doing his duty to the best of his ability as he understood it; and while the meeting was in progress had proven conclusively that he had a thorough knowledge of the many things a full fledged scout must know.

Jack meant to graduate from the tenderfoot class in the shortest possible space of time. Any scout may do this by being diligent in the pursuit of various lines of woodcraft.

"Well," said Jack, as he pushed alongside his chum, "this has been a dandy meeting, all right. And there are four new fellows knocking at the door; with perhaps more to follow, when Stanhope learns what great times we have."

"Yes, and I guess we'll need new recruits right along. You know that some of the boys will fall by the wayside soon after the novelty has worn off," remarked wise Paul, who delighted in studying human nature as he saw it around him.

"Listen! fellows! The fire alarm!" shouted Joe Clausin, just at that instant.

Every voice was hushed.

Clear upon the night air rang out the sound of a tocsin—the stroke of a hammer upon a steel rim from a locomotive wheel, and which was hung aloft in the only firehouse in Stanhope.

It was a thrilling sound at any time, and especially to a company of boys newly enlisted in the great cause of humanity—of lending a hand to neighbors who might be in trouble. So after several more clear, resounding strokes had pealed forth, calling the volunteer department out to fight the fire demon, one scout started wildly for the double doors of the smithy.

He was immediately followed by others, and in almost the twinkling of an eye the Carberry blacksmith shop was emptied of its late noisy crowd.

CHAPTER XIV

JACK'S CHANCE

"Wow! look at that, will you?"

"It's a barn most likely!"

"Don't you believe it. I can see the roof of the house! Say, I believe it must be that old Bradley place! Come along, fellows!"

"There are the firemen on the run! They'll have old Rescue No. 1 on the jump in a jiffy. Hey, fellers, let's get busy, and pull the hose cart for 'em!"

"Bully idea. Lead the way, Paul! It's up to you to show us how!"

With these and many more cries the Boy Scouts bore down on the building that sheltered the lone fire department of the town. This consisted of a cast-off engine in good repair which had been purchased from some big city, where they were installing an auto in place of horse power for propelling their machines; and a hose reel, the latter to be drawn by a line of men.

Of course the assembling firemen were only too glad of the offered aid. To have a score of husky boys appear so readily on the scene, ready for business, was in the line of a "snap."

Accordingly, while some of the men got the horses hitched to the engine, and others started the fire going, the hose cart was rushed out, and its long rope eagerly seized by the waiting boys.

Paul was at the end of the line, for a scout leader must live up to his reputation as a general, no matter what the emergency.

"Pull!" went forth the cry, and immediately the hose reel started off in the direction where a flash of fiery red announced that the excitement was centred.

Nothing could please such an energetic lot of lads more than a chance to make themselves useful in this way. They pulled with a will, and passed along the road leading out of the town, on a wild run.

The one who had declared that it was the old Bradley house that was on fire must have had the situation well in mind. Perhaps he lived in that neighborhood, and was better able to judge than the balance of the boys. At any rate all of them had by now made sure of the fact.

Paul remembered that a family, in which were quite a number of children, had lately come to town, and taken the big ramshackle building.

The thought gave him a thrill, and inwardly he found himself hoping that none of them might be caught in that fire-trap.

"There comes the old machine!" shouted the fellow who, not being able to get a grip on the rope by which the hose wagon was drawn, trotted in the rear, and made out to push.

Yes, they could hear the shouts of the excited fire laddies now, and also catch the sound of galloping horses.

Looking over his shoulder, Paul saw a medley of moving lights, evidently the lanterns carried by the volunteers. These were doubtless clad in their old toggery and fire hats, the foreman with his silver trumpet in evidence, without which no respectable fire would think of allowing itself to be quenched.

And a rising column of sparks attested to the fact that the fire in the engine was in full blast, so that steam would be ready by the time the scene of operations was reached.

"One side, boys, and let them pass! Give them plenty of room!" called Paul.

He had seen that old engine booming along to a fire on many an occasion, and remembered that the driver, Hank Seeris, was inclined to be a reckless hand; for as a rule the machine was wobbling from side to side, and threatening to overturn at any minute.

Up to this date that catastrophe had never happened; but Paul remembered the old saying that "a pitcher may go to the well once too often;" and he had fears.

It proved that they were well grounded too, after the hose reed had safely negotiated the last bend in the road, and the burning dwelling was in plain sight.

"Look at them coming, full tilt! They will be over at the turn!" shrieked Bobolink, who, being near the tail end of the double line could observe what was taking place without hindrance.

Immediately there arose a chorus of loud shouts, as of warning. But apparently Hank Seeris must have been indulging in more liquor than was good for him; or else he happened to be in an unusually reckless state.

"They're going over!" howled Bobolink.

"Smash!"

"Oh! there goes our only engine to the scrap heap!" exclaimed Jud Elderkin, in dismay; for his father happened to be the foreman, and it looked just then as though the gallant fireman might be without a job.

Paul ran back, as did most of the boys, thinking that something terrible must have happened.

The plunging horses had been pulled down, and a man was already sitting on the head of each to keep them from kicking further. There are generally some wise persons present in such a calamity, who know just what ought to be done.

Willing hands were already unhitching the horses, so that they could be taken out of the way, and the ditched engine upraised.

"Where's Hank, the driver! Is he hurt?" asked some one; and Paul recognized the old minister, who must have been on the way home from visiting when the alarm burst out, and hence he had accompanied the fire fighters, eager to lend a hand at the rescue work.

"Here he is, and just comin' to, after being knocked senseless. Hank ain't hurted, I reckon," answered a citizen who had run with the machine.

"How about the engine—is she much damaged?" asked the foreman, as men set about raising the heavy Rescue No. 1.

"Out of business for this trip, Elderkin. She'll never work again till she's gone down to the city for repairs," came the answer.

A groan of dismay went up.

"That settles the fate of the old Bradley house, then," declared many, as they saw the flames and smoke apparently increasing.

Everybody was now anxious to get on the scene, and the engine was left in charge of a watcher, while the crowd rushed along, exchanging views of the accident, and the chances of saving the building by means of a bucket brigade.

The foreman proved himself to be the right man in the right place. He instantly organized a double line of men and boys, leading from the creek near by, up to the house that was burning.

Every imaginable species of bucket and tin pail was pressed into use. Men and boys invaded the kitchen and captured all sorts of utensils, from milkpans to butter firkins.

These were put into use, and passed along as rapidly as those at the creek end could plunge them in, and fill them with water.

At the other terminus the foreman and his assistants took the water pails, and dashed the contents here and there as opportunity arose.

The Boy Scouts were nearly all somewhere in the line, and working valorously. For the time being they utterly forgot they were dressed in their new suits of khaki, and that the pails slopped over continuously, soon soaking them to the skin.

Cheered on by the appeals of their leader they never flinched. It was the first chance Paul had of seeing how his enlisted followers could forget self, and rise grandly to an occasion.

When any one showed signs of tiring he was quickly crowded out of the line by another eager willing worker. Indeed, there seemed to be three applicants for each job; and had there been more buckets several lines might have been formed to make use of that accommodating creek.

Jack, after a little, found himself pushed aside by another scout, who wanted to exercise his muscles, and could wait no longer.

Seeing a group around some children, and hearing sudden cries from a woman, Jack hurried across the lawn. Somehow he seemed to fear that new trouble had broken out; and when he saw a half-clad figure wringing her hands, and shrieking, he realized that his suspicions were going to prove true.

"What is it?" he asked, of another scout, coming away from the group.

"Her baby. She says it is in the house!" replied the boy, whose face was white with the horror of it all.

"What?" cried Jack; "did she forget her own baby, then?"

"She thought her husband had it. He's a sick man too. See, that's him they are holding back there. He wants to go in for the baby, and they won't let him. Oh! Jack, I'd like to do it, but I'm afraid of fire. I just dassent!" sobbed the boy.

Jack waited to hear no more. His blood seemed to be on fire, and his teeth came together with a click.

Another moment and he was in the group, eagerly plying the almost distracted mother with questions as to which room her baby had been in. Fortunately Jack had once known a boy living in the old Bradley mansion; so that the interior of the house was not strange to him.

"Our bedroom—it is the corner one where the tower stands. The one that has the alcove!" the lady managed to cry, as she caught his arm, and looked, oh, so pleadingly, in his boyish, determined face.

After that Jack would have risked anything in the attempt to save that innocent little one. He rushed off without saying a word. Several put out a hand to stop him, under the belief that it was useless, since that portion of the building seemed to be a mass of flames by now. But Jack dodged them just as he did when running with the ball on the football field.

When he dashed into the house, disappearing in the volume of smoke that poured from the open doorway, a groan went up from the great crowd; for they doubted as to whether he would ever be seen alive again.

CHAPTER XV

THE HONOR BRAND

"He's gone!"

"Who was that boy?" called the foreman of the fire company, as he came running up, waving his speaking trumpet.

"Jack Stormways, the lumber man's boy!" some one answered.

"Well, he's a good one, all right; but I'm sorry for his mother!" said the experienced fire-fighter, as he looked anxiously at the flames pouring out from several windows directly under the room next the tower.

Paul had dropped out of the line. He could not pass another bucket after seeing the chum he loved so well plunge into the doomed building. From right and left he heard many things spoken, and presently understood what it was induced Jack to attempt what seemed so like a foolhardy thing.

So it would have been, had the object of Jack's attempt been the securing of valuables, no matter what the amount. But a human life counts for more than earthly riches; and a brave soul never stops to consider the risk when a fellow being is in peril of a terrible fate.

Jack found himself in the midst of dense smoke as soon as he plunged across the doorsill. He had foreseen this, and with a wisdom beyond his years made simple preparations to combat the evil.

On the way to the door he passed close by one who carried a bucket of water, and some happy inspiration caused him to snatch out his handkerchief and dip it into the cool liquid, not wringing it out to any extent.

This he clapped over his nose, so that in breathing the wet cloth would keep much of the suffocating vapor from being drawn into his lungs.

His eyes began to smart furiously. By the time he was half way up the stairs he could not see a thing around him save murky clouds of smoke, lighted by the tongues of flame that darted like serpents out of many places.

He staggered up still further, and fell on the landing. But gaining his feet again he pushed on, still heading in the right direction. Only for the knowledge he possessed regarding the interior of the building, Jack would have lost his bearings then and there. The result must have been serious indeed.

Along the hall he went. It seemed to grow hotter the further he pushed; but even that did not daunt him. Once enlisted in a good cause he must go on, no matter what faced him. Had not Paul said words to that effect, after telling them what it meant to be a tried and true scout?

And here the opportunity had come to him not half an hour after the thrilling words were spoken!

Those outside while still sending the buckets of water along, in the effort to save one portion of the large house, were waiting to see what came of Jack's attempt at rescue.

"He's lost!" declared one, as the fire broke out in a new place; "see, that's the tower burning now, and she said the baby was in the room next there."

"Poor old Jack! to think it should be him to go!" groaned Bobolink; "see, Paul, there's his father passing the buckets along. He don't even know his boy is in the old shack! Oh! my, whatever did he take chances like that for?"

"Because he couldn't stand and see that poor mother shrieking for her baby. Because he's got the strongest heart of us all! That's why!" declared Paul, his voice vibrating with love for the chum he might never see alive again.

And Bobolink said to himself:

"By the jumpin' Jehosaphat, I believe Paul would have gone if Jack hadn't. He's lookin' at that house now like he wanted to run right in and tear it to flinders."

"There he is at the window!" whooped a man's heavy voice.

Instantly every eye ranged along the front of the building, wherever the columns of smoke permitted. And many a finger was pointed at the one where a waving hat served to draw attention.

"He's shouting something. Keep still, everybody!"

A dead silence immediately ensued. Only the roaring and crackling of the hungry flames could be heard, as every ear was strained to catch what it was the imperiled boy was saying.

"He's got the baby—look! he's holding her up!"

A shriek came from the agonized mother, and she fell on her knees with clasped hands.

"Listen to what he says!"

"Go to back of house—get ladder to window there!" called Jack huskily, at the top of his voice.

"Hurrah! we understand, old fellow! We'll have you out of that yet!" whooped Bobolink, starting on the run around the end of the mansion.

"A ladder—bring it around, boys! Let's save the brave youngster!" howled the tall foreman.

The ladder happened to be up against the building at a point where the flames had now burst forth, driving the fire-fighters back. Himself, the foreman led in a bold forward rush to capture the required ladder; nor was he to be denied, scorning the efforts of the licking tongues of fire to daunt him.

Then, with a swarm of followers, he pushed around the corner. Here, to be sure, there did seem to be less of smoke and blaze, owing to the direction of the night wind.

Now they were placing the ladder. It reached up to a window, and if only Jack would show himself all might be well. Seconds were like an eternity to those who crowded below, every face upturned, and every eye ranging along the side of the house.

The fire was pushing in this direction too, for it suddenly burst out of a broken window. From many pairs of lips there burst a groan. Well did they know that every second counted against the boy, who was doubtless groping his way along halls and through rooms filled with that overpowering smoke.

"There he is!"

It was like a sudden electric shock, that cry. The clarion notes of a bugle would not have thrilled that vast crowd one half so surely as did the appearance of a head at a window on the left.

Jack had been shrewd enough to pick out a room that was further away from the devouring flames. A hoarse shout went up at sight of him.

"He's got the baby too!" was the tenor of that victorious cry; and it was as though every man and boy and other person present felt a personal interest in the success of Jack's daring venture.

The precious baby was saved; yes, he was hugging the bundle to his breast; and during a lull in the clamor they plainly heard the lusty cries that proceeded from that shawl-wrapped package. Those were doubtless the most blessed sounds that ever reached the strained ears of the praying mother.

Quickly was the ladder lifted and rushed along the wall of the house until it stood beneath the window where Jack had shown himself.

The foreman himself mounted as soon as it was in position. But Jack refused to hand over his burden, nor could Mr. Elderkin insist. It was only right that the one who had saved the little darling should have the pleasure of placing her in the arms of the frantic mother.

But he could and did guide Jack's feet as they sought the rounds of the friendly ladder, so that presently the boy, with singed hair, and begrimed with smoke, was lifted to the ground.

Hardly had Jack landed than a pair of arms encircled both him and the baby; for in that happy moment the mother realized what she owed this brave lad; and her heart was brimming over with gratitude.

Such shouts as went up then! Those still coming to the scene must have thought the wearers of the fire hats had succeeded in running a line of hose into a position where victory was assured.

Again the bucket brigade got busy, working with renewed zeal, though but little hope of saving any portion of the big building now remained. But every one was roused up to fever pitch by the excitement of the hour. And Jack's valiant work had helped inspire them to renewed deeds of endeavor.

Paul led his chum away, for Jack was almost exhausted. Then came Mr. Stormways on the run, having just learned what his boy had done. He seized Jack in his arms, and shed tears over him; though at the same time his heart must have swelled within him with satisfaction that one of his brood had acquitted himself so well in a crisis that called for a cool head and nerves of steel.

The flames kept on eating into the old building. It was now doomed, and the fire laddies confined their efforts to saving any furniture that could be carried out.

Paul called his scouts around him, at the request of the old minister. They were rather a sorry looking group, though just as full of a desire to assist as ever. The fine new uniforms were bedraggled with mud and water. Several had holes burned in their coats, and that of Jack was a sight to behold.

But who cared? After all, the uniforms were but an insignia of their connection with a great organization. New or old they stood for a principle; and gallantly had Stanhope Troop No. 1 responded when the need arose.

The old and highly respected minister, whose heart was filled with a great love for the rising generation, shook hands with each and every scout, declaring that he was proud of the privilege.

"Don't mind the soiling of your new uniforms, lads. Every mark found upon them to-morrow must serve as a badge of honor to the wearer. After this it will be the tried and true scout who can point to a burnt hole in his smart coat, and say 'I got that the night of the great fire up at Bradley's!' And what shall I say of this fine member of your patrol who so bravely risked his own life to save that of a mother's baby? Only that his own mother has reason to thank God to-night because of such a son. We all love him!" and a tear fell on Jack's hand as the old man squeezed it.

CHAPTER XVI

THE FIRE TEST

"All here, Paul!"

Jack saluted as he said this, and smiled to see the look the scout leader gave his scorched and discolored uniform.

Although Jack had spent an hour and more that morning trying to clean up his suit and leggins, they showed many signs of the hard service to which they had been put on the previous night.

Several of the fellows carried cameras. They had signed for the photographic test, and hoped to get some fine views of the troop in action. These would possibly be entered for competition when the other commands in the county lined up to strive for leadership in the last great event—the winning of the banner.

Presently the town clock struck the hour.

"Fall in!"

Two by two they marched out of town. People came to the doors to watch them; and many a girl waved her handkerchief vigorously. But there was no response. Much as some of the lads might have liked to raise a hat, and send back an answering salute, they had already learned how to keep their eyes to the front, on penalty of being given bad marks that might tell against them later on.

More than one parent looked to see how the boy nearest their hearts bore himself. Proudly they watched the long double line swinging down the street, keeping excellent step, considering how little time they had had for drill.

Other boys there were who stood on the corners and mocked. Of course these were the followers of Ted Slavin, envious of the popularity already attained by Paul's patrol. Some of them had been at the fire, and witnessed the deed of daring carried out by Jack Stormways. Jealous of the other troop they tried to taunt them by various cries; but without success.

However, most of them did not venture to tag after the marching corps. They knew that even the wonderful patience of these fellows would have its limit, and that a sudden turn might be made upon the tormentors that could hardly prove pleasant for the minority.

Out of the town limits they went, still keeping step. Ted and Ward trailed behind, but there was no more taunting done.

"They mean to follow, and see what we are up to," said Jack, when he came alongside the leader again.

"Well, we can't stop them from doing that, I suppose. The woods are free to all. Let them look. If they can pick up a few pointers, well and good. When we lead, you know we can afford to laugh at those who follow," returned the other.

"Sure, because they'll never catch up with us in a year," laughed Jack.

For a full mile they continued, never once breaking ranks.

"We're nearly there, fellows. You're doing fine, I tell you. Keep it up through to the end. Why, you march like veterans already!"

In this fashion did the scout leader warm every heart, and cause those who were beginning to tire of the jaunt to grit their teeth, and resolve that nothing must be allowed to interfere with the completion of the march.

"Left wheel!" came the command, as the van drew abreast of an opening where a wagon road entered the woods.

Still those two curious ones trailed in the rear, determined to ascertain what it was that took the Fox Patrols out of town this day.

Presently, surrounded by the giant trees, still green with their summer foliage, Paul gave the command to halt and break ranks.

Immediately the twenty-six lads began fraternizing. Those owning cameras started to look around for openings where some promising view offered. But most of the scouts clustered around the leader, eager to hear what the programme of the day would embrace.

"First comes the fire test. There are a dozen fellows who have come prepared to qualify for that. And I think we shall have an interesting competition. Here, all who have hatchets get busy, and cut wood."

Paul himself led the way, for he delighted in using the little camp axe which he often "toted" into the woods, when hunting or camping.

The sound of chopping soon resounded through the timber, and by degrees quite a pile of wood had been accumulated. But all this was simply to loosen up the muscles of the competitors; for they were not to be allowed to use any of this fuel, which was for the main campfire.

Once this had been started, Paul distributed a dozen tin kettles that had been brought along. These were all of the same size. Moreover, they had a plain mark two-thirds of the way up, which was to limit the amount of cold water from the near-brook which they must contain.

"Here are five matches for each one of you. Every fellow is placed on his honor not to have a single other one in his possession. You are not to use any kind of paper in kindling your fires. Just imagine that you are adrift in the wilderness, where a newspaper is never seen. And in the end when a kettle begins to boil the owner of it must shout and raise his hand. I will have inspectors appointed whose duty it will be to see that all is fairly done."

"Don't we get more than these five matches?" asked one of the contestants.

"That is all. And remember, that if two are tied when the quart of water boils, the fellow who can show the most unused matches comes in ahead. That is a valuable point, for it proves that he knows how to conserve his resources. A match is sometimes of priceless value to a man lost in the big timber."

"Tell us again what we must do, Paul."

"Form a line right here. When I say 'go,' every fellow dart off to some place he has in mind. With your hatchets you are to chop wood, and get a fire started as quick as you can. Then place your kettle on it, and keep on adding fuel until the water boils. I will time every contestant myself, and keep a record. But this is just a preliminary trial. We'll have another later on. Ready, all?"

The twelve contestants lined up, while the others watched operations. Even the two outsiders had kept getting closer, so as to understand all that was done. And as Ward had his gold watch in his hand it was evident that he intended to do a little timing himself.

"He wants to see how our best compares with what some of his fellows will do," remarked Jack, to Paul.

"All right. He's welcome. The more the merrier. If they have any fellow who is more at home in the woods than Wallace Carberry for instance, I'd just like to know it," returned the other, promptly.

"How about you, Paul? I guess Wallace would stand a mighty poor show if he ran a race with the head scout," returned the second in command.

"That's something we've never settled yet. Wallace and I must have a chance at each other some day; but not yet. Now watch them scurry around. Every fellow has his mind made up where he can cut wood easiest. I've made them bring in all loose stuff, you see, so that they start on an even thing. Here goes!"

Paul raised his hand, and exclaimed:

The Banner Boy Scouts

Or The Struggle for Leadership

By GEORGE A. WARREN

THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N.Y.Copyright, MCMXIIby CUPPLES & LEON COMPANYPrinted in the United States of America

CONTENTS

PREFACE