"I'd like to be in that one," one of the fellows said.

"If you were in that one it would be this one," I told him.

"What are you talking about?" Pee-wee said.

"I'm talking about whether anything can be something else," I told him.

He said, "I suppose that's what you call mental digestion."

"It's logic," I told him. "If we were in that car, the nine of us, it would come down here, wouldn't it? Don't you know what the attraction of gravity is?"

"It never attracted me," he said.

"The heaviest part of a thing goes down," I said. "If you were up there you'd only come down here. The top car is the bottom one. Everything is something different. Up means where you're not. See? What do we care?"

We all sat there with our heads thrown back looking at the car away up above us.

"See how it rocks?" Dorry said. "I bet it's good and breezy up there."

"Why don't the others rock?" Hunt asked.

"Search me," I said.

"There's nothing on either side of that one at the top," Westy said. "There isn't even much of the wheel up there to break the force of the wind."

"Correct," I said. "Take two credits—and one cookie. Here."

"There isn't any such thing as the top of a wheel," Dorry said.

"Sure there is," I told him; "the part that's at the top is the top."

"The part that's at the top of what?" he came back at me.

"I should worry," I said. "Don't you think I've got wheels enough in my head without bothering about a ferris-wheel?"

So then we all started singing that crazy song that we used to sing when we were being hauled all over the country in our camp on wheels:

"There was a Duke of Yorkshire, He had ten thousand men; He marched them up the hill, And then he marched them down again. And when they're up, they're up, And when they're down, they're down; And when they're only half way up, They're neither up nor down."



CHAPTER XIX

UP IN THE AIR

It was nice in there.

"This is a good place to hide after killing a bandit," Warde Hollister said.

"Look out, you'll strain your neck," I said to Dorry, because he was craning his neck looking up.

He said, "I'm trying to decide which car is the one that was at the bottom when we came along. I think it's that one up top."

"They're all the same, only different," I said.

He said, "If I'm right it means that the wheel went just half way around—one half a revolution."

"Some highbrow," I said. "Don't talk about revolutions, they remind me of history. A half a revolution is better than the French Revolution. Take your feet off me. Do you want a whole car to yourself?"

"It's pretty crowded in here," Westy said.

"Well, go up on the top floor if you're not satisfied," I told him. "You'll get a good view up there."

"How do you know there's a good view in that car?" Pee-wee said.

"I put it in there when the car was down here," I told him. "Ask me something hard. Stop rocking, you make me dizzy."

Of course as soon as I said that they all started rocking the car. That shows how they obey their patrol leader. The car went swinging more and more and the rusty old wheel creaked.

"Git—app, git—app Till papa comes home,"

they started singing. Warde Hollister was as bad as any of them, if not worse.

"Have a heart," I said. "Stop! What is this? A life on the ocean wave or a bee-line hike?"

"Rock-a-bye baby On the tree top,"

they all went on. Honest, that patrol is the limit. I'd like to sell it second-hand and get a new one.

"Listen to the ghosts up there," Westy said. "This old wheel sounds like a nineteen-sixteen Ford."

I said, "You'll look like a nineteen-sixteen Ford in a minute if you don't let up. Take that phonograph horn off my head," I said to Pee-wee; "or I'll throw it out of the car."

Pee-wee started yelling through it, "Only ten cents a ride on the haunted ferris-wheel. A—ll aboard! Only a dime, ten cents!"

We were all shaking, and our heads were wobbling and we were wiping our feet all over each other and the kid was shouting through his crazy megaphone, and I was just going to pull it away from him and throw it out of the car, when all of a sudden he dropped it and whispered, "Look—look! Up there! Look, quick!"

"You're seeing stars," I said; "no wonder."

"Look!" he said. "It's a—it's th—th——"

"Now you see what you get from swinging too much," I said.

"Look—athe—athe—uppp——" he stuttered. "I—sa—thbandidt——"

"No, you don't," I said. "No more bandits. Stop rocking, you fellows, will you; or this kid will be seeing some wild Indians."

They didn't pay any attention, only went on rocking the car more and more. They had been rocking so hard they couldn't stop. Pee-wee's jack-knife was bobbing against his belt, his compass was flopping around, his megaphone was all over our laps, and his cooking set was banging around on the floor. He was pointing up in the air the best he could and saying, "Stpthe car, stpthecar—ts—the bandit—tsthba—a—a—a—a—nt——"

The more I laughed the dizzier I got and the dizzier I got the more I laughed. They were all laughing so hard and they were all so dizzy they couldn't speak.

"Atta—b—b—oy, kid!" one of them said.

Pee-wee was tumbling all around from one fellow's lap to another's and trying to talk. "Lkthba—a—a—a—a—nt——" That was about all I could make of it.



CHAPTER XX

SEEING THINGS

Just then, I don't know, I seemed to see a face. I didn't know where I saw it but it was up above me.

I shouted, "Stop—op—op—this car—rar—I com—mom—mom—and you!"

Pretty soon the car stopped rocking.

"It's—it's the bandit," Pee-wee said; "did you see?"

"You've been seeing things," Westy said.

"I'll leave it to Roy," the kid said.

"I saw a face," I told them; "it was——"

"Shh—look!" Pee-wee whispered; "straight up."

I looked, and away up through all the trestle work, I could see a head move back into the car at the top. The big axle of the wheel was right between our car and that other one and it hid part of the car. It seemed as if that person up there had been peeking at us and drew in his head quickly so as not to be seen. I saw this much, that he had a cap on.

"Did you see?" I whispered to Westy.

"Sure I did," he said. "That was no baseball target."

"Baseball target?" the kid whispered, all excited. "That's the bandit; now we've got him."

Dorry said, "Don't look up again; don't let him think we saw him. He had a cap on. Did you see?"

"I suppose I'll have to climb up there and shoot him," Warde Hollister said.

"You sit where you are," I told him. I knew he was only joking but I saw that was no time for fooling and I was afraid he might spoil everything.

"You could never climb up there," I said. "Anyway, this is no false alarm. I saw him as plain as day."

"So did I," Westy whispered. Hunt and Will said they thought they had seen him too, but they weren't sure because they had been seeing everything on account of being so dizzy.

Westy said, "Don't talk loud, remember sound ascends."

I made believe I was looking all around at the sky and I stole a look up that way again. Just as I did I saw a kind of a movement. I kind of knew that the person away up there in that car was watching us and sticking his head out as much as he dared.

Westy said, "We don't know whether it's the bandit or not, but whoever it is, we've got him. He'd break his neck jumping from up there. He couldn't get hold of the trestle on either side of the car. That car must have been down here when we came along. Whoever it is, we've got him as sure as if we had handcuffs on him."

"We've foiled him," the kid whispered. "You said boys never capture bandits and things except in books. Now you see."

Westy said, "Well, we've sure got him, and believe me, that's a new way to capture a bandit."

"It shows that scouts are resourceful," Pee-wee said.

I said, "Sure, they're so resourceful they capture bandits without knowing it. We don't even know if he is a bandit."

"We know we've got him. Isn't that enough?" the kid said.

Jiminies, whoever he was, I could see we had him all right. He was as safe up there as he would have been in a dungeon. Because you can see how it was. The big tall trestle-work that held the axle was only as high as the middle of the wheel. Maybe he could have climbed down that, and maybe he couldn't. But from the middle of the wheel up to the top the iron-work wasn't close enough for him to reach from one brace to another. I didn't see how he could even get out of the car to the nearest girder. If he took a chance, he'd break his neck. I suppose, just like Westy said, he had made for the lowest car and it had gone up with him on account of our weight hanging onto some of the other cars. Nine fellows are heavier than one. Gee whiz, it did seem a funny way to catch any one, but that fellow was caught, sure. I wondered how he felt up there.

"Do you think he'll take a chance of his life?" one of the fellows asked.

"I bet he's half crazy up there," I said.

"Maybe he'll shoot," the kid said, kind of scared.

"What good would that do him?" Will said. "He'd have to shoot the whole nine of us, six or seven of us anyway, before the wheel would move. And besides, the axle is in his way."

"If we all leave here the car will come down," Warde Hollister said. "He could rock it so as to get the wheel started."

"It's rocking a little now," Westy said.

"I know what I'm going to do," I told them. "I'm going to find out who he is, if I can."

"You're not going to go up and ask him!" the kid said. "You might better use the megaphone. Safety first."

I said, "I'm going to make believe I'm hunting for something and see if there are any footprints around. If there are and they're from the direction of the river, that will look bad."

On the fancy seats were four wooden knobs, two on each seat. I said, "Turn one of those and see if it screws off."

Warde was sitting at the end of one of the seats and he kept turning the knob till it came off.

I said, "Reach down under your knees—don't anybody look up—reach down under your knees and wrap your handkerchief tight around that knob, so it will look like a baseball or a tennis ball. Then throw it over here."

The paint was all gone from those knobs and the wood was all cracked and rotten like all the wood in that old park. I wanted the ball to look white so it would be good and plain to the fellow up there.

In a few seconds Warde and I began throwing it to each other. No one would be suspicious seeing us, that's sure. Pretty soon I threw it good and hard, like Christy Matthewson, only different, and it went flying out in the direction of the river and dropped. It went in the long grass.

And then is when I had good luck. Because I didn't have to go five feet from that car before I found something. So you see I didn't get off the track of our bee-line enough to really call it getting off the track.

I made believe I was hunting for the ball, and in about ten seconds, good night, right there near the car were footprints. I could see them as plain as day. They came from the direction of the river, too. Not in a bee-line the way we had come. But just the same they came from the river, all right.

"I can't find the pesky old ball," I shouted. "Why don't you throw straight when you're throwing? Come on, let's go to Little Valley and get some ice cream cones. We should worry."

"I like this old car," Westy shouted. "If we leave it maybe the wind will carry it up. Let's tie it with our rope and come back here and eat our supper in it on the way home. After that it can spin around till it gets dizzy for all we care. Wha'd' you say?"

I could just hear him saying, "Shhh," to the other fellows.

That's Westy Martin all over; he always has his wits about him. I'd carry mine around with me, too, if I had any, only I haven't got any. Sometimes Pee-wee has good ideas, but he doesn't carry them with him because he has so much else to carry. But Westy has a dandy brain, I'll say that for him. I saw right away what he was driving at.

"That's a crackerjack idea," I shouted. "Let's eat our supper here on the way back. We'll tie the car and then we can loosen it again afterwards. Come on, let's hurry up. This is a nice lonely place to eat in and nobody anywhere around to bother us."

"Hurrah!" they all shouted.



CHAPTER XXI

FETTERS

So that's the way we did. As we went away we were all careful not to look up, and we talked about all different things as if we didn't know there was any one up in that wheel at all. And if anybody ever tells you that boy scouts can't really catch grown-up people except in books, you can tell them I said they can do it in amusement parks too.

"I hope he's the highwayman, anyway," I said to Pee-wee. "You're not the only one that goes up in the air."

"It shows what scouts can do," Pee-wee said. "We bound him with ropes, didn't we?"

"Absolutely," I said, "only the rope was quite a way off from him."

"What difference does that make?" he wanted to know. "He's held by ropes, isn't he? Can you deny that?"

"I guess you're right," Westy laughed.

"What are we going to do now?" Hunt wanted to know.

"We're going to keep our eyes on that tree," I said, "and go in a bee-line. It will take more than an auto bandit to get me off the straight path. Don't look back whatever you do."

I guess it was about five o'clock then; anyway it must have been after four because we were getting hungry. It's strenuous work catching bandits. The tree up on the ridge was all kind of red. The sky was bright over there and it looked fine. That's the time I like best, when the sun begins to get red. I was wondering if we could see my house when we got up on the ridge.

Pretty soon we climbed over the old amusement park fence and then we just had to cut straight across fields till we came to Little Valley. Before we got there all the windows in the houses looked as if there were lights shining inside of them. That was a sign the sun was beginning to go down. When the windows look bright like that in August you'll know it's after five o'clock. In Bridgeboro at six o'clock some of the houses in Little Valley look as if they were on fire. We got fooled that way once. We went all the way there by the road and there wasn't any building burning down at all. Gee whiz, we were mad!

Little Valley isn't so big. The fellows over there come to Bridgeboro High School. There's a one-patrol troop there. Harry Donnelle lives there too. He told us whenever we came to Little Valley to be quiet so as not to wake the people up. He says that place ought to be called Rip Van Winkleberg. But anyway, I don't see how you can wake a town up if it's dead. The only thing that's quick about Little Valley is some quicksand near the creek. But they've got a good ball field there for the Bridgeboro team to beat them on. Anyway, I'm not so stuck on baseball. Me for stalking and tracking and all that.

Now when we got to Little Valley we marched in formation just the same as we did in Bridgeboro, two rows of three fellows each. I marched ahead with my official staff and we let Warde Hollister go ahead of us all with the cardboard standard because he didn't have any scout suit. I bet Little Valley felt like Belgium when it saw us coming.

We had to go across one lawn, but a lady told us it was all right. Pee-wee started to give her a lecture about the scouts but I grabbed him by the collar and made him come along. He rattled like an old junk wagon. The lady said he looked like Don Quixote. I don't know much about that fellow, but if I ever meet him I'm going to apologize to him for what she said.

Next we came to Main Street, named after the water main. By that time we had a crowd of kids at our heels again and everybody was staring at us. I hope they liked us. A man let us go through his store and climb over the back fence and then we came out on the village green.

There's a band-stand on that village green and a whole crowd of kids climbed up into it so as to see us. Pee-wee looked mighty proud. A lot of grown people were standing around too, staring at us and laughing. I guess they thought our big sign looked pretty funny.

One man said, "Is the civilian population going to be spared?"

I said, "The civilized population is going to be spared, but if there are any ice cream cones in this berg they're going to die a horrible death. Plant our banner in the village green," I said to Warde, "and all gather around your gallant leader."

The man said, "How do you feel about peanut brittle?"

"No peanut brittle can get past us," I told him. "We eat it alive."

Oh, boy, there was some excitement. The next thing we knew a box of peanut brittle was going round. There was a crowd of people all around watching and reading what it said on our standard and laughing. Most always that's the way it is with people when they see scouts. Somebody kicked a grocery box over to where we were and the man called, "Speech, speech." I got up on the box and I said:

"Don't anybody be afraid, we're not going to hurt you."

A girl that was standing there said, "The idea! Did you ever hear of such a thing? Hurt us? Do you think we're afraid of a patrol of boy scouts?"

I said, "You knowest not what thou sayest, girl. We've devastated the whole country from Blakeley's Hill to this spot. The only thing we've left alive is the grass. And even that we trod under our feet."

"We're invincible!" Pee-wee shouted. "Do you know what that is?"

"Do you think I haven't got a dictionary, Mr. Smarty?" she said.

I said, "Silence. Take a demerit. Where is the police department of this town?"

Somebody shouted, "He's home eating his supper. Do you want to go and see him?"

I said, "No, we want him to come and see us. Can't you see from our sign we're on a bee-line hike?"

Somebody shouted, "He's at supper. Do you have to see him?"

I said, "No, the army and navy will do just as well; we're not particular. Wait till I consult with my official staff."

I couldn't understand what my official staff said because his mouth was full of peanut brittle. "Here's the box, eat that too," I said.

Then I said good and loud, "We have an important communication to address to the police department. We've caught a bandit——"

"We've got him bound with fetters," the kid shouted.

"Give me that phonograph horn," I told him; "the crowd is growing bigger."

Good night, that was the end of me. I was superseded like a general in the third grade—I mean in history. There was Pee-wee standing on the grocery box, his aluminum cooking set all over the ground, shouting through the old phonograph horn at the top of his voice. A little way off I could see a cop coming across the green. I guess he was going to chase us off first, till he heard what Pee-wee was saying.



CHAPTER XXII

INVASION

Pee-wee had the floor; he had the whole green; I guess he had nearly the whole town. Anyway, he had all the peanut brittle there was left.

"We caught a bandit," he shouted. "He's got footprints. He's up in the top car of the ferris-wheel in Riverview Park. He's bound with ropes. Even Detective Pinchem didn't catch him, but we did."

"Who put him up there?" somebody shouted.

"We did!" Pee-wee yelled.

"What's he doing up there?" a man called.

"He's trembling with fear," the kid shouted. "He fired seven hundred shots and got away with two dollars——"

"You mean seven hundred dollars," I said.

"We foiled him!" the kid shouted.

"He's all wrapped up in tin-foil," I said.

The cop said, "What's all this nonsense, anyway?"

I said, "Are you the police department?"

He said, "Well, I think I am."

"You've got to be sure of it," Pee-wee shouted. "We can't deal with the civilized population."

"Do you think we're afraid of you?" that girl said, very scornful like.

"Hurrah for Pee-wee Harris," Dorry shouted.

"Do you think we're afraid of a boy named Pee-wee?" she said. "It sounds like a canary bird."

Pee-wee pointed the big horn right plunk at her and shouted through it, "Do you call me a canary bird?"

I nearly died laughing.

She said, "If I had a name like Pee-wee I wouldn't talk about dealing with the civilian population."

"That name doesn't belong to me," he yelled.

"He only rents it," Hunt said.

"His right name is Sir Harris, R. R.—Raving Raven," Dorry said.

"What's your name?" Pee-wee hollered at her through the horn.

"It's Dora Dane Daring," she said. "So there, Mr. Smarty. And I'm a girl scout."

"Girls are afraid of snakes," he shouted.

She said, "Well, they're not afraid of canary birds."

"They're afraid of black men and—and—bandits," he yelled. "Didn't you ever hear of wild canary birds? That shows how much you know about botany—I mean zoology."

By that time everybody was screaming. Even the whole police department was laughing. He said, "Well, now, what's all this about? Have you youngsters been dreaming or what?"

"What," I said; "you guessed right the second time."

I guess if it hadn't been for Westy maybe that fellow with the cap would be up on the top of the wheel yet.

He said to the policeman, "I'll tell you how it was if these fellows will keep still."

I said, "Let's have a large chunk of silence."

So then Westy told him all about our meeting Detective Pinchem and how he was looking for a fellow that had robbed an auto party and how he had stolen a boat and left it in the marshes. He told him all about what happened at the old ferris-wheel and how I had found footprints there and how they showed that some one had come from the river. Most all the people that crowded around listening were serious. Two or three men said they guessed it was the auto bandit all right. The policeman said they'd soon find out.

A lot of people said they were going to see what happened and one or two of the patrol wanted to go back because, one thing, you don't see bandits captured every day. Maybe whole weeks might go by and you'd never see one captured in a ferris-wheel. But that shows how you never can tell. You might chase a bandit on a merry-go-round but you'd never catch him.

"We should worry about the bandit," that's what I told the fellows. "Because we've got troubles of our own. We've got to make Carson's Hill yet and then the woods up the ridge and we'll have to go slow and use our compass in there. Look at that big tree up there waiting for us," I said. "It's got all dressed up for us since we started."

And, honest, it did look that way because it was all gold. But, anyway, you'll find out in the next chapter that gold isn't the only color. There are blue and green and yellow and strawberry and orange and banana and grape-fruit and peaches and russet apples—those are my favorites. Gee whiz, I don't know whether I'm talking about fruit or colors! But one kind of vegetable I like, and that is onions.

Anyway, the color I was going to speak about is black. And believe me the next chapter is the darkest one in this book.



CHAPTER XXIII

FOILED!

Most of the people went back to the park with the police department. That girl had been listening to Westy telling the policeman about everything and so now she said to our young hero:

"You don't call that binding a bandit with ropes, do you? With him up at the top of the wheel and you down at the bottom."

The kid said, "Sure I do, that's distance binding—you're so smart. That shows how much you know about scouting. I suppose you don't know you can signal for miles and miles. Can't you do other things by distance too?"

"That's a fine argument," Warde Hollister said.

"I invented it," the kid shouted.

That girl said, very sarcastic like, "I must say you were very brave to kill that wooden figure. I'm not afraid of snakes, but I'd certainly be afraid of a wooden figure. Tell me, did you ever kill a rag doll?"

There were two or three girl friends of hers there and they all started to titter.

"Was it our fault if that colored man was made of wood?" Pee-wee said.

She said, "Oh, mercy, no. But when you were binding the poor bandit weren't you afraid he'd bite you? He was only a hundred feet or so away, you know. Are you afraid of mice, too?"

"No, we're not afraid of mice," Pee-wee said. "And we're not afraid of bugs either. Girls are afraid of June bugs."

"That's because they're black," she said.

"Scouts aren't afraid of anything, they don't care what color it is——"

"Purple or lavender or pale white or dark black, what do we care?" I said.

"Do you see that hill away over there in the east?" the kid shouted at her. "That's Blakeley's Hill. That's miles away. We came from there in a bee-line. Do you think that we let anything stand in our way? We're—we're—invincible. Houses—we go right through them. Even the movie people followed us, so now you can tell. Rivers—do you think that river stopped us? Do you know what the points of the compass are? We came straight west, just as straight as an arrow. Now we're going up on that ridge, where that big tree is. If you want to follow us, you can. Then you can see just how we do it. You'll see us—you'll see us go right through houses. I'm not blaming girls that they don't have adventures——"

She said, "Oh, isn't that too sweet?"

"And who are you going to kill next?" another one of those girls wanted to know. "Some terrible black man?"

"The blacker the better," I said.

"Do you see that tree off there on the ridge?" Pee-wee asked her. "We have to climb right up that. There are snakes up there."

She said, "Oh, isn't that terrible?"

"I'm not saying you can't do things," the kid said; "because girls know how to sew and cook, I have to admit that. But when it comes to——"

"To being invincible?" she said.

"Now you just shut one eye and look at that big tree up there," Pee-wee said. "Do you notice the house right at the edge of this green? Do you see how it's right in a bee-line with that tree? We've got to go right through that house. Do you think we'd go around it? We'll go right plunk through the middle of it, no matter what. That's what a bee-line hike means. That's why we had the police department come to us instead of our going to him. See?"

All the girls began to laugh. Dora Dane Daring said, "Isn't that just wonderful?"

"That's nothing," Pee-wee said. "We do harder things than that."

They all began to laugh again.

I said, "Well, as long as we can't take this village with us we'll have to leave it here, I suppose. I hope it will be here when we get back."

"Maybe if you bound it with ropes——" one of those girls said.

"It would just be a waste of good rope," I said. "We'll stand a rock on the town and that will hold it here. Come on, official staff," I said, "get busy. You fellows fall into line. The next assault is on that house that Pee-wee pointed out. Am I right?"

They all lined it up with the tree so as to make sure.

"Now you watch us," I said to the girls.

"Oh, we'll watch you," one of them said. Then they all began to laugh again.

I said, "If you have patrols in the Girl Scouts, yours ought to be called the Laughing Hyenas. What's the idea?"

They didn't answer, only just stood there giggling. They ought to have a merit badge for giggling in the Girl Scouts.

"We think you're so funny," one of them said; "especially that little boy."

"Your village isn't so big if it comes to that," Pee-wee said.

"No, but it hasn't got coffee-pots and frying pans and old phonographs hanging all over it," one of them said, laughing all the while. "He looks like an ash wagon."

"That shows how much you know about scouting," the kid shouted. "Don't you know that scouts are supposed to cook their own meals?"

"And play their own music?" Dora Dane Daring said. "Do you take victrola lessons?"

I said, "He plays the shoe horn, also the gas pipe. He can even play on Boys' Life; that's the scouts' official organ."

She said, "Most canary birds are musical."

"Yes," I said, "and parrots can laugh, too."

She said, "You ought to call it an A. B. C. hike instead of a B hike. If you're going to tear down any houses we'd like to see you do it."

"Everybody falls for the scouts—in all the houses," Pee-wee yelled.

That Daring girl just giggled and said, "Oh, isn't that just wonderful?"

So then I rounded up my army of invasion and I shouted, "Scouts and sprouts, I have squinted yonder tree with my trusty right eye and I find we have to cross neutral territory again. We have to go through that house over there——"

"The one with the roof of——" Pee-wee shouted.

I said, "That's the one, the one with the roof. Take a good look at that house; you'll see it has an inside as well as an outside."

"I can't see the inside," Dorry shouted.

"Can you see the outside?" I asked him. "Well, the inside is just inside of the outside. If you took the outside away there wouldn't be any inside. You can do that by algebra."

I said, "There are two stories in that house and we have to put some adventure into those stories."

Pee-wee shouted, "I'll go ahead and ring the bell and tell them we want to go through, hey? Because I know what to say." Then he said to the girls, "You can watch me if you want to. Maybe some time you'll be on a bee-line hike and want to go through a house and then you'll know just how to do."

One of them said, "Oh, thank you so much."

"The pleasure is ours," I told her. "If the civilized population wants to follow us, what do we care?"

Then I said, "Ready—go!"

We all marched across the green with Pee-wee ahead of us and those girls coming along behind, laughing. You couldn't blame them because the kid looked awful funny—very brave and bold. We all stopped on the walk in front of the house. It was a dandy big house; it looked like one of those houses that has a hall running straight through to the back. That's the kind of neutral territory I like.

The kid marched straight up to the steps and up onto the porch and pushed the button. "That's one thing you have to learn when you're a scout," he called down, "not to be afraid."

All of a sudden the front door opened and, g-o-o-d night, magnolia! There was the biggest colored man I ever saw. He was about six feet tall and eight feet in circumference, or maybe it was the other way round, I don't know which. His face was so black that it would make a blackboard look pale. You could have written on that man's face with chalk, dandy. He had on a kind of a uniform with brass buttons and his elbows stuck out on each side of him.

"Good night," Hunt said; "that's one mountain we didn't figure on."

I said, "I guess that's one of the Black Hills. I wonder how it got out of my geography."

Pee-wee looked like a kewpie doll in front of that man. The man just glared at him and then he said, good and loud, "Whatchue want here, you?"

Pee-wee said, "We—eh—we—does Mr. Smith live here—please?"

The big man said, "No, he don't. Whatchue want here?" He just glared down at the poor kid as if he were going to eat him.

Pee-wee said, kind of hesitating, "If—if we'd be willing to wipe our feet—maybe—would you be willing to let us go through this house—maybe?"

The big man glared down at him and then he said in a great big deep voice, "Looker here, you youngster! You want to get arrested, do you? You clear out of this! Whatchue mean comin' to folks' houses and say you like to go through, eh? You clear out of here, double quick, or I'll have you in de lockup!"

He banged the door shut and there stood Pee-wee trying to get his breath, I guess. Then he started down the steps again, the stuff in his big megaphone rattling like a junk wagon.

"Foiled!" I said.



CHAPTER XXIV

DARING DORA DANE

Oh, boy, you should have heard those girls laugh. Dora Dane Daring said, "Isn't that just too provoking? He didn't seem to be a bit afraid of you, did he?"

"Don't you know sometimes scouts have to use strategy?" Pee-wee said. "Did you think I was going to—to—just force my way in? Don't you know a scout has to be courteous?"

"It was so good of you not to hurt him," she said.

"Scouts are—they're kind," the kid said.

She said, "Yes, but you know they're invincible. I suppose you'll just go and ring the bell again?"

"We—we take turns doing things like that," the kid said.

"The general appoints scouts to do that," I told her. "I appoint Westy Martin and Dorry Benton to——"

"I can't be drafted, I have a dependent ancestor," Dorry said.

Westy said, "I'm sorry, but I have heart trouble. I claim exemption."

I said, "You're a fine pair. I appoint Will Dawson and Warde Hollister to go up there and arrange terms——"

Warde said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not in uniform."

"I have a dependent mother," Will Dawson said.

"I'm a conscientious objector," Hunt Manners piped up.

The Warner twins said they were the sole support of a collie dog.

"Some bunch of warriors," I said. "I always heard that scouts weren't supposed to be afraid of a draught. What are we going to do? Go home?"

"If we had tanks——" the kid started.

"Well, go and get a couple of water tanks," I said.

"Isn't it exasperating?" one of the girls said.

"Can't you wait a little while?" Pee-wee shouted. "Wasn't the world war four years long? That shows what you know about history."

One of the girls said, "Do you still claim to be invincible?"

"Sure we do," Pee-wee said. "But of course everybody—a lot of people know that women helped in the war a lot—everybody knows that. We wouldn't be mad if you made a suggestion."

That Daring girl said, "Oh, I haven't a single thing to suggest. We believe in action. Actions speak louder than suggestions. If you're really ready to admit that you're defeated I'll make a proposal. It isn't a suggestion, it's a proposal."

"Proposals are just as good as suggestions," Pee-wee said.

She said, "Well, if you're ready to admit that you're balked——"

"Even—even—even the Germans were balked on the Marne, weren't they?" our young hero shouted.

I said, "Well, it doesn't look as if that giant with the brass buttons is going to surrender. If we could get some propaganda past him to the people in the house——"

"Like they did with airplanes," Pee-wee said.

"Yes, but you see the shutters are closed," she said. "Girl scouts are observant. It looks as if there were no one in the house but that horrid big giant."

I said, "What do you propose?"

Then Dora Dane Daring said, "I propose to lead you to victory if you will print it up on your banner that you were saved from disaster by the Girl Scouts of America, and keep that on your banner till you get home."

"I'd like to see you do it first," I said.

"You mean to tell me you're not afraid of that man?" Pee-wee said. "Do you think I'd let you—a scout has to be chivalrous. He has to protect women——"

"Give me your hatchet," she said, and she jerked it out of his belt.

"You better look out what you're doing," the kid said. "Do you want to get arrested?"

She swung Pee-wee's belt-axe in the air just like Carrie Nation or Joan of Arc and she said, "Follow me!"

Pee-wee said, "Dora Dane Daring, you'd better look out what you're doing."

She said, "Private Canary Bird Harris, you're a coward. Fall in line, everybody!"

Gee whiz, I thought that girl was crazy. Up she marched, right onto the porch, with all the rest of us after her. Pee-wee kind of hung back—safety first for him. I was ready to run any minute. We went across that porch as if we were stalking a bird.

But she didn't care. She just hit the door a good rap with the hatchet and kept pushing the button. Boy, I was kind of shaky!

Pee-wee said to her, "You'd better be ready to run."

I said, "I'm ready to go scout-pace for ten miles. I'm glad a scout can run."

I guess that big army all rolled into one with the brass buttons must have known it was our crowd because he didn't come right away. Gee whiz, I pictured him getting madder and madder every second. I was ready to jump from the porch to the middle of the street. Pee-wee had one leg all ready for a good starter. All the while Dora Dane Daring kept pounding on the door and pushing the button.

All of a sudden the door opened. That's the end of this chapter.



CHAPTER XXV

PEE-WEE'S LOSS

Pee-wee gave a sudden start, then stopped. We all kind of stood back a little. Westy and Dorry stayed by the railing. We were all ready to retreat in disorder. There was that great big man filling up the whole doorway and his brass buttons shining. He looked like the Allied Army. She just shouted right in his face,

"Stand aside and let these boys pass, in the name of the Girl Scouts of America!"

G-o-o-d night, as sure as I'm writing this, that great big colored man stood out of the way and in she marched waving Pee-wee's belt-axe. We all followed after her, kind of scary.

"You'd—you'd better look out," Pee-wee whispered to her. "He can lock us in here and have us all arrested. Maybe—you can't tell—maybe he meditates treachery. What—what are you going to do?"

"We're going to devastate his country, Private Canary Bird Pee-wee," she said. "Now you see what the Girl Scouts of America can do. Maybe sometime you'll want to know how to break through hostile territory and then you'll remember Dora Dane Daring, won't you? Do you think I'm afraid of a butler?"

"You'd—you'd better look out," Pee-wee said; "safety first."

As we went through the hall he kept looking all around as if he expected to see sharpshooters behind all the doors. It was a dandy house, with a nice big wide hall and it had a moose's head for a hat rack. First I guess we were all pretty scared.

The kid walked on tiptoe through the hall, and he kept whispering to me, "This is just like—it's just like burglary. Girls are reckless. We'd better look out. Do you hear a footstep upstairs? I hear a bell ringing. I bet he's calling up the police, hey?"

That girl led the way into a dandy big dining room and then all her friends began laughing again.

She said, "We'll take everything there is to eat in the pantry. My brave army must be fed."

Pee-wee said, "I'm—I'm not so hungry." Gee whiz, it was the first time I ever heard him admit that.

She said, "If there is any bird seed in this house you shall have it. Sit down."

Pee-wee sat down on the edge of a chair, looking all around, good and scared. Every time a door creaked he gave a start. He said, "It's—it's in—it says in the scout handbook that we have no right to trespass——"

She waved the belt-axe and she said, "The scout handbook! Ho, ho! A mere scrap of paper." She was awful funny.

Pee-wee said, "We didn't mean to stay here. All we wanted was to go through——"

"Do you eat pie?" she said.

He said, "Yes, but—maybe we'd better start."

We were all sitting around the dining room. I guess all of us felt kind of shaky. I thought every minute that Pee-wee was going to get up and run.

All of a sudden Westy (gee, he's a fiend for noticing things)—he said, "Dora Dane Daring, the boy scouts have to hand it to you; you've done a good turn, that's sure. This house looked like a hard proposition. All we have to do now is climb over that fence in back. We all admit you're a heroine. But there's one thing I'd like to ask you. Do you notice that big silver cup on the sideboard has D D D engraved on it? Maybe scouts aren't so much as warriors but they're observant. I was wondering if you know whose initials those are?"

At that all the girls started laughing.

"It's your own house!" Pee-wee shouted. "Now you see how scouts are observant. What did I tell you?"

She said, "It is not my own house; so there, Mr. Canary Bird Harris."

"Whose house is it?" Westy said.

"It's my father's, Mr. Smarty," she said.

"No sooner said than stung," I told Westy.

Hunt said, "What difference does it make whose house it is as long as we go through it? We have to give you the credit anyway."

"Is your father home?" Warde asked her.

She said, "Nobody's home but myself—and the butler."

I said, "Yes, I seem to remember him. I think Pee-wee met him once."

"I—I found out that I'm—kind of—that I'm hungrier than I thought I was," the kid said.

"Oh, sure," I said; "his appetite is like a cat, it always comes back."

And believe me, that was the only time in the life of P. Harris that I ever knew him to lose his appetite. Even then it was only for four minutes. Westy said it was three minutes and a half, but what's the difference?

He got it back anyway.



CHAPTER XXVI

THE SHERO

One thing about scouts—I mean two things about them. They always keep their words and they always keep their appetites—you can ask anybody.

I said, "Bring down a bottle of shoe-blacking with a sponge brush and we'll let the whole World know that you're a hero, I mean a shero."

She said, "First we're going to have refreshments."

I said, "No, first we're going to give you credit."

She just laughed and she said, "No, because it's my father's house."

I said, "That's not your fault. If that butler was in my house he'd scare the life out of me just the same. I hope you never feed him meat. Even if I met him at the Peace Conference he'd scare me."

So two or three of those girls went upstairs and got a bottle of shoe blacking and a big piece of cardboard. It was the cover of a box a suit comes in. I printed on it good and plain:

WITH THE ASSISTANCE OF THE GIRL SCOUTS

and we fastened that just underneath the other sign on our martial standard. Pee-wee kind of balked at that.

But he didn't balk at eating pie. They had dandy pie in that house. We all sat around the dining room eating refreshments and we had a good time. Pee-wee showed them that a scout could eat, anyway. Even still, every time there was a noise he gave a start. Safety first.

Dora Dane Daring said she liked Bridgeboro.

Pee-wee said, "Were you ever in Bennett's there?"

She said no, but she knew some girls there.

I said, "Do you know Minerva Skybrow? We named a kind of mushroom after her."

She said, "The idea!"

I said, "It's a good idea; she showed us all about how to grow mushrooms. She can play tennis in four languages, that girl can. There are a lot of smart people in Bridgeboro. We've got three patrols in our troop but, thank goodness, there's only one of them here. That's enough, hey?"

Westy said, "If you ever come on a hike to Bridgeboro——"

"Maybe you can't walk that far," Pee-wee said.

She just looked at him, very scornful.

I said, "If you ever come over there, come and see us in our headquarters; we're away most of the time—I didn't mean it that way.—We've got a railroad car for a meeting-place down by the river. Drop in if you're ever down that way."

"Drop in the river?" she said. "Aren't you perfectly dreadful!"

"The river's all right," Pee-wee said.

One of the other girls said, "I bet you have lots of fun, you boys."

"We eat it alive," I told her. "There's a scarcity of fun in Bridgeboro because we used it all up. That's why we have to explore the country. The next thing we're going to do is a zigzag hike."

She said, "Did anybody ever tell you you were crazy?"

"Nobody has to tell us," I said, "because we know it. Anyway, I guess we have to be going now."

We had dandy fun sitting around there talking. Girls are all right, only they're kind of funny, they keep giggling all the time—giggling and fixing their hair. But anyway, they know how to do good turns. Most of them like algebra and they're funny in other ways too. But gee whiz, everybody has something the matter with him. I know a girl who stuck a safety pin on a stump for a scout sign. But they're strong on being kind and all that, I'll say that much.

Those girls took us out across the lawn in back and when I pointed out the big poplar tree away up there on west ridge they said they'd like to be going with us. And Dora Dane Daring said she was glad her father owned that house, so she could help us to keep to our bee-line. They stood there at the fence waving to us until we got away over pretty near to Westcott's Hill. One of them threw a kiss to us then. Girls always wait till you get far away before they do that so that you can't be really sure whether they meant it that way or not.

But I was sure, all right.



CHAPTER XXVII

THE NEW SCOUT

Now comes the part of our bee-line hike that I like best because we had to go through woods and open country. Houses and villages are all right, but me for the open country. There wasn't any one following us now, there were no buildings or anything like that ahead, and it seemed quiet and lonely. Up to that time our hike had been sort of like a circus, only more so. But pretty soon, oh, boy, it wasn't much like a circus, because something pretty serious happened.

It was beginning to get dusk by that time and there were kind of like little dabs of dark red on the top of the ridge. Away up on the peak of the big poplar tree was a dab of red and all the rest of it was dark. It seemed awful clear against the sky, that tree. I kind of thought how all day long the sun had been on a bee-line hike too, going straight west. "If the sun can do it, we can do it," that's what I said. It would be nice up there under that tree in the dusk. I was hoping that we'd get there soon so we could start a fire. Then my mother could see that from the porch and she'd know we were all right. Because we'd come back around by the road and that would be easy. We could take the jitney on the state road right up there on the ridge and go straight to Bridgeboro station. I don't know if you know where the Bridgeboro station is, but it's right near Bennett's.

Now I'll tell you about the country from Little Valley to west ridge. First it's easy, across fields. Then you come to Westcott's Hill. Gee whiz, I don't know what he ever wanted to own a hill like that for. The side nearest Little Valley isn't very steep but going down the other side it's pretty steep. On that side the hill is sort of broken off like. We weren't worrying because we knew there'd be some way down. We should worry about hills. At the foot of that hill is a deep cut where the railroad goes through. On the other side of the railroad tracks the ridge begins. Before you get to the ridge there's a pond—a pretty big one. Up the side of the ridge are woods.

Now most all the way from Little Valley to the ridge we could see the tree. There were only two places where we couldn't see it. One was just before we got to the hill. But after we got part way up the hill we could see it again. The other place was west of the hill, in the hollow. We knew how it would be there but we didn't care because we had our compass. We intended to go up through the woods on the ridge with our compass.

It was pretty easy going till we got up to the top of the hill but then we saw that it was going to be pretty hard getting down it, it was so steep. It went down a little way, maybe ten feet, almost straight. Then there was a kind of a little slanting shelf with all grass and bushes. We didn't know how it was below that slanting shelf because we couldn't see. Maybe it was so that we could climb down. If it wasn't it would have to be pretty steep.

So we stood on the top of the hill thinking what we would do.

Warde Hollister said, "The only thing to do is for one of us to climb down on that ledge and look over and see how steep it is below. Then we'll know whether we can make it or not. There's no use turning back till we know we have to."

"Turning back?" I said.

"Well, what else are we going to do if we can't get down this hill?" he wanted to know.

"All our day's hike for nothing?" Westy said.

"I didn't say I'm for turning back," Warde said. "But this isn't a case of ringing front door bells and getting on the right side of people. Maybe scouts like Nature, but Nature doesn't care much about scouts."

"You said something," I told him. "But, gee whiz, we don't want to turn back."

He said, "Well, there's no use crying till we're hurt. We've got to find out how steep it is below and that ought to be easy."

He started throwing off his jacket.

"Only you'd better be careful," I said. "That ledge is kind of slanting."

"It's all full of bushes," he said.

"How will you get up again if you have to come back?" one of the fellows asked him.

"A couple of you can reach down," he said. "There's a good foothold up on top here."

I didn't like the idea of his doing that. But I didn't like the idea of turning back either.

After leaving Little Valley I guess we had all begun to think it would be easy going on account of there not being any streets or houses in our way. Because, one thing, scouts are used to the open country. We never thought about running into anything like that. It came all of a sudden, like, and there we were with the big tree on the ridge across the valley, plain to see, and we couldn't seem to get any farther. Gee williger, it was pretty hard for any of us to think about turning back then, after going right straight for that tree all day long.

"I don't know about that," Westy said. He's always careful.

Warde said, "Well, what are we going to do then? Turn back? We could go north and down the hill where it's easy, but that wouldn't be a bee-line hike."

I said, "This is a bee-line hike; it's either straight west or home, victory or defeat. No beating around the bush."

"That's us!" they all shouted.

Warde said, "Well, then, we've either got to go on or turn back. And I'm going to find out which we have to do. There's no use standing here talking about it. If we're beaten, we might as well know it. We can be good losers, I hope. We can either go down this hill or we can't and I'm not going to say we can't till I know we can't. That's the kind of a scout I'm—going to be."

"You mean it's the kind of a scout you are," I told him. "And I'm glad to have you in my patrol, I'll tell you that!"

"Maybe this hill can beat me," he said; "but it can't fool me. Here, hold my jacket."



CHAPTER XXVIII

THE LEDGE

If it hadn't been for that slanting ledge a little below us we could have looked down and seen just how steep the hill was. It would be bad enough to have to turn back, anyway, that's what I thought. But to turn back without really knowing for sure that we couldn't possibly go any further, gee whiz, that didn't seem like scouts. We were all feeling pretty disappointed because we knew that the chances were against us.

"We'll either do it or know that we can't, that's our motto," Hunt said.

"And if we can't, that will mean no one can," I said.

"That's us," Dorry shouted.

"Give me a hand down," Warde said.

"A scout in khaki ought to do that," I said. "We ought not to let a new fellow risk——"

"You're so strong on good turns," Warde said. "Aren't you willing to give a fellow a chance to win the khaki? Here, grab hold of my hand. I'm not going to walk off the ledge. Do you think I'm blind?"

"Well, anyway, be careful," I said. I felt kind of shaky, I couldn't help it. Because below that ledge there must have been a hundred feet and for all we knew it was straight up and down.

I got a good firm foothold by bracing my feet behind a rock. "Stand back," I said to the other fellows. Then I held Warde's hand while he climbed down onto the ledge. I couldn't keep hold of his hand till he got all the way down, but he braced his feet on the side of the rock that made a kind of wall up from the ledge.

The ledge was all rock and it was slanting so no one could stand on it without taking a chance. Between the cracks in the rock were small bushes growing.

I said, "Get down on your hands and knees, quick. Don't try to stand there."

Now that he was down there on the ledge I saw how risky it was. Before there was any one down there it didn't seem so very dangerous, but as soon as I saw a person on it then I was sorry I had let him do it. I didn't see how he was going to look over the edge because he'd have to keep his hands toward the wall to hang on. He'd be taking an awful chance if he faced the other way.

"It's pretty slanting, hey?" Westy said.

I said, "Don't trust to it, hang onto the bushes."

"I'm all right," Warde said.

"No, you're not either," Hunt told him; "we can see how it is from up here better than you can. Do you slip? Look out!"

"I'm all right," Warde said.

"Only don't get reckless," I said. "What's the use of taking chances? I'm sorry you went down. If you can stand up maybe I can reach you."

"What do you mean, reach me?" he said. "What do you suppose I came down here for?"

"You're pretty game," Westy said, "but look out."

By that time Warde was on his hands and knees. He was keeping hold of the stuff that grew through the cracks and letting himself out toward the edge of the shelf. We all stood at the top watching him and we were pretty anxious.

I said, "Don't turn around, go backward."

"How am I going to see anything that way?" he called. "Whoa—a——" he said, and just then he let go one little clump of bush and grabbed another. It gave me the shudders.

"That was coming up," he said.

I called to him, "Warde, don't try to turn around on that ledge. Crawl back and see if you can stand up enough so I can get hold of your hand. We'll call the whole thing off."

He didn't pay any attention to me, but moved around so his head was toward the edge. About three feet more and he would be able to look over. It gave me the shivers just to watch him.

Will Dawson said, "It's too late, he couldn't get back up here now."

I knew that was so—that he wouldn't be able to get within reach of our hands. If it turned out that he couldn't go all the way down I didn't know what would happen.

He was clutching little clumps of bush with his hands and sort of holding himself back that way. All of a sudden he slid forward and only stopped himself by pressing a little patch of bush between his knees. I could see he was holding his knees together with all his strength. Even still he slipped a little. I guess by that time he realized himself the danger he was in, but he didn't say anything.

Westy flung off his coat and threw it down, keeping hold of one sleeve. He called, "Here, grab hold of that with one hand if you can."

"I can't let go," Warde called.

His back was toward us so he couldn't see the jacket, but the rest of us saw that it wasn't within his reach. When Westy threw it, it went maybe within two feet of Warde's hand and then fell dangling against the cliff.

"Let's tie two jackets together by the sleeves," Hunt said.

"He wouldn't dare let go to catch hold of it," I told him. "Can't you see he's hanging on with both hands and feet now? He can't afford to take any more chances; it's bad enough already."

"Watch your step, don't move," Westy called down. "If you've got a firm hold hang on; don't try to look over. Give us a chance to think."

Warde called, "Wait till I see how it is below and maybe you won't have to bother to think. Maybe I can go down all right."

"That fellow's game," Westy said.

"Safety first," I called. "You're in a pretty bad place, Warde. You can see better how it is up here. You hang on with both hands and feet and give us a chance to think. Don't get excited. We don't care anything about the hike now."

"All right, go on home," he called. "I'm going to see whether we can climb down here or not."

"He'll make a scout," Dorry said.

"If he lives to take the oath," Westy said.

All of a sudden Warde moved. I don't know whether he slid or moved on purpose. Anyway there was a little clump of bush in his hand. He threw it away and clutched the ground in another place. That brought his head to the edge of the shelf. Jiminies, my heart was just pounding in my throat. The palms of my hands were all wet, even. None of us spoke. One more move and he'd be over the edge. I wanted to call and ask him how it was below, but I sort of felt that even my voice might start him moving again. He was way out of reach of us now, right on the very edge, and we knew that his life depended on how the land was below him. Because one thing sure, he couldn't come back.

Just then he slipped ever so little and I could see his knees and feet pressing the weeds between them tight, just as if his legs were a vice. I just couldn't call and ask him how the land was down there.

Pretty soon he spoke. His voice sounded just the same as usual even though it was a kind of death sentence he was saying.

"It's straight up and down," he said.

"How far?" I called. My own voice sounded strange to me.

"'Bout seventy or eighty feet," he said; "maybe a hundred. I can't tell exactly."

Then he seemed to move again but maybe I only thought so because I was so excited.

"Hang on," I said. That was all I could say.

"I will," he said. "But so long, if I don't see you again."



CHAPTER XXIX

THE LAST HOPE

"Hang on and don't move," one of the fellows called to him. "The hike is off. You just hang on. You haven't got another inch to move in. Don't look around even." I don't know who it was that called, all I know is it was one of us.

"What can we do?" I said.

Westy said, "Let's take off our stockings and tie them together."

"Good idea," Hunt said. "Look—he's moving again."

"Don't get excited," I said; "he didn't move. Hurry up, all of you, take your stockings off. Are you all right?" I called to Warde.

"Guess so," he said.

"Don't look down, it'll only get you rattled," I said.

"What do you mean—rattled?" he called.

I said, "Well, can't you take a little advice? When you're in the scouts you'll learn that you can always hang on tighter with your eyes shut."

We took off our stockings and tied them together but there was so much space needed for the knots that they made a line only about five feet long. So we tied a couple of our scout shirts on by the sleeves. Then Westy took hold of one end and I took hold of the other, and we pulled. It pulled out in one place and we fastened it again. It was a clumsy kind of a line and we didn't know whether it would hold or not. But it was the only thing we could think of.

Then I called to Warde, "Don't move till we tell you. Are you slipping?"

"Guess not," he said.

"Don't move even if you feel something on your back. We're going to throw a line right near your hand."

I grabbed the end stocking and wound it around my hand so it wouldn't slip away. Then I threw the other end, the end with the shirts. It went over the edge of the shelf within about three feet of Warde's arm.

"Don't grab it yet," I said. "Wait. Don't let go."

I began pulling to make sure the line was strong. Maybe the shirt on the end was caught on something below the shelf. Maybe the line would have held Warde all right if he moved back on his hands and knees. But anyway, it didn't hold when I pulled on it. I guess I pulled too hard. Anyway the line broke right near my hand and most of it went over the edge of the shelf.

"There it is at the bottom," Warde said. He didn't seem excited or disappointed. I never saw a fellow like Warde Hollister—never. I've seen brave fellows but never a fellow just like him.

"It wasn't your fault," Westy said; "what next?"

I guess Warde must have heard that because he called, "Nobody's to blame. You tell my people."

I was nearly crying. I said, "Warde, you hold on. You're not slipping, are you?"

"N—not much," he said.

"Don't trust to those weeds," Westy called. "Can't you get your fingers in a crack or a crevice or something and brace yourself back? We'll take off every stitch we have on and make another——"

"I'm slipping, fellows," he said. "I was a scout anyway, hey? No, I wasn't——"

"You're the best scout that ever was, Warde," I called to him. I was nearly crying, I couldn't help it. "Only hang on—please hang on—do you hear? Please hang on. The bushes—just wait——"

By that time the fellows were all undressing. Poor Pee-wee was so excited and nervous he just tore his shirt off.

"It's too late," Warde said—awful calm. "I'm slipping. These blamed weeds don't hold. Don't you fellows worry. Maybe I'll land——"

We could see well enough that his head and shoulders were over the edge. It was just a case of one root coming up and his grabbing another one, and slipping a little each time. In about another half a minute he'd have only his legs to hold on with. I haven't got much use for lifelines made of old clothes. They're all right in stories but where there are a lot of knots fastening together different kinds of clothes, one knot is pretty sure to give way. The only kind of line we could make now was a pretty clumsy kind of a one and it would take us at least ten minutes to get it made.

By that time Warde would be....



CHAPTER XXX

A GOOD TURN

"There isn't time to do this," Westy said.

"Well, we'll do it whether there's time or not," I shot back at him. "Hustle, all of you, get your clothes off. There's time until he disappears. Two of you fellows follow the hill north and go down at the nearest place you can get down. There isn't any bee-line now. No, don't you go, Pee-wee—Dorry and Will go. Here, take my scarf, you've got your own, too—never mind looking at the tree," I said. "Here, take this shirt, too. You know how to stop blood flowing, don't you? Put a stick under the bandage and wind it round. Hurry up, he's slipping. We can't get this blamed thing ready in time. Do what you can for him down there. Hurry...."

It was funny, but as soon as they started I just couldn't help looking over there to the ridge at that big tree that had guided us all day. Kind of, I wondered if it knew the trouble we were in—and that after all we wouldn't get there. But I only thought of it for about a second.

Down there on the ledge Warde was almost half over. He couldn't use his hands to hold on with now, but he just squeezed the bushes between his feet. He was slipping over slowly.

"Hang on," I shouted; "we're hustling, we'll throw you a line."

"Look, look!" one of the fellows who had just started away shouted. "Oh, look!"

I just clapped my hands over my eyes for a moment; I couldn't look. I just couldn't. I knew what it meant. My hand was trembling and my heart was just choking me. "Did you—did you hear him—land?" I asked.

"Over there—east," some one said.

I looked in the direction we had come from, and as sure as I'm writing this, there was some one running pell-mell right toward us. I saw right away it was a girl. You know how a girl runs, especially when she runs fast. She was holding her head way back and laughing, and her hair was all flying loose. There was something big and kind of gray colored around her neck—very big and clumsy. I stood just about a second, then I made a sprint for her. I never ran so fast in my life. We came toward each other just flying. Her cheeks were all flushed and her hair was all over her face and she was panting and laughing all at once.

She said, "I—I—I—I've—got—your—rope—so there. I—I—ran all—the way—with it. You—you said—I—I—I——"

"Don't talk, give me the rope!" I said.

"Maybe—I—I—fooled you about—about the house—my own—house—but I can do things too—run—see? Here. They caught—the bandit—here——"

I ran pell-mell back to the edge with the rope. "Did he—did he go over?" I called.

"Hurry!" they shouted.

Gee, I wish you could have been there to see all that. There were the scouts of my patrol, all half dressed, jumping up and down and yelling, "Hurry, hurry!" There was Dora Dane Daring coming along behind me and all the scouts cheering her. I can hardly tell you just how everything happened. Westy grabbed the rope from me and by the time I looked over the edge, all panting and trembling, there it was right over the edge of the slanting shelf.

But Warde Hollister wasn't there!



CHAPTER XXXI

TOMBOY

For about five seconds my blood ran cold. I kind of seemed to see everything just as if I were dreaming. Then I noticed that all the fellows were hanging on to the rope. And I saw that Will and Dorry hadn't gone away. I saw that the rope was tight, down over the edge of the hill and across and over the edge of the shelf. I knew that Warde Hollister must be hanging on to the end of that rope. He wasn't trusting his life to any old weeds now. That rope was held by scouts and he should worry. And we should worry, too, because by that time we knew Warde and we knew he wouldn't let go.

I just jumped up and down shouting, "Hurrah, hurrah!" I couldn't help it. It seemed awful funny for seven fellows to be holding one up, but Warde had come so near to death that I guess they wanted to make saving him double sure. Even Pee-wee was tugging on the rope with both hands, his cheeks all puffed out. The girl just stood there panting and laughing.

She said, "What's on the other end of that rope? An elephant?"

I just went right up to her and I said, "Dora Dane Daring, on the other end of that rope is the best scout in the western hemispheres, including Flatbush and Hoboken—the best scout with one exception, and that exception is you."

She said, "Oh, isn't it just too funny to see that little Pee-wee pulling on the rope? Oh, dear! I could just kiss him. I'd run two miles to see that!"

I said, "Tell me——"

"You finish before I tell you anything," she said. "Did I save the bee-line hike?"

"Did you!" I said. "You saved a fellow's life too. You're going to get a hero medal if I have to go over to National Headquarters and see Mr. National personally. Meanwhile you can kiss Pee-wee six times if you want to."

"Look over the edge and see if the rope is chafing, Roy," Westy said to me.

"I'll do more than that," I said. "I'll go down there and stuff a jacket under it. Give me a jacket, somebody." I was feeling so happy I didn't care what I said or did.

The fellows got beside a tree so that the rope went part way around the trunk. That way they could pass it out easily. We were sure of the rope, that was one thing. Hemp—you've got to go some to break that. That was no clothesline. Backyard ropes are all right, but not for scouts.

"Don't take any chances," Westy said. "Just look and see if it's chafing on the edge."

"If it is, tell me," Pee-wee puffed out.

"Let it down slowly," Warde called. "What are you waiting for? It's all right down here."

There were only two places where that rope could rub; those were on the top of the wall right near us and down on the edge of the shelf. We knew it was all right below that on account of what Warde had said. In both of those places the rope went over clumps of bushes and moss. No rope will stand rubbing all the time, but all we had to do was to let it down to the bottom and we knew it would stand that much rubbing.

So we just passed it out little by little and pretty soon it was slack. Then we could hear Warde calling from away down below.

"All right," I shouted; "We'll be down pretty soon. Take a rest."

We tied the rope good and fast to the tree and then I said to Will and Dorry, "How far did you go when you started from here?"

"Not more than ten or twenty feet," Dorry said.

"Then the bee-line hike is saved!" I said.

Dora said, "Oh, I'm so glad. I wondered how you'd ever get down the cliff. When the men came back from Riverview Park they had that horrid bandit with them—just think!"

"What did I tell you?" Pee-wee said.

She said, "Oh, I think it was just wonderful how you fastened him there——"

"Without the loss of a single life," the kid shouted.

She said, "And when I saw that villainous creature and thought how you had really caught him, and when I saw the men had your rope, I was just stricken with remorse for the way we girls fooled you. I said, 'I'm just going to run after them and take their rope so their hike won't be spoiled.' Because I thought you'd need it. So you'll forgive me, won't you, for pretending to be so brave when all the time it was my own house? You will, won't you?"

I said, "I don't know much about the girl scouts except that they giggle a lot but I'll say this much, they know how to run and when it comes to good turns——"

"Will you let me prove I'm a scout? A real one?"

I said, "You're as real as real estate. All you have to do is say what you want."

She said, "Will you let me climb down that rope and go with you, and finish the bee-line hike with you?"

"G-o-o-d night!" I said.



CHAPTER XXXII

BEE-LINES AND THINGS

Gee whiz, I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to tell her that I was afraid she couldn't do it. But we had just seen one narrow escape and I didn't want her to take any chances.

I said, "If you think we're mean, we'll say yes, you can go with us. Because we owe you a lot, that's sure. I'd rather give up the whole thing than be mean about it. And I think you're just as good at doing things as we are. But we wouldn't do this ourselves if we weren't already in for it. Our clothes are all torn already from going over roofs and climbing on those ferris-wheel cars, and you'll only get your dress all torn and what's the use?"

She just stood there a few seconds, kind of trying to make up her mind. "You think I'm afraid," she said.

"I don't think you're afraid," I told her. Pee-wee started to speak and I told him to keep still. "But what's the good of taking a chance and getting your dress all torn?"

She just said, very stubborn like, "I want to go and I do think you're mean if you don't let me. I'm a scout as much as you are. You think I'm a coward. Do you think I want to go back to the village and finish a tennis tournament after seeing the things you do?" She was almost crying. I knew if she started to cry we'd have to let her go.

I said, "You claim you're a good scout and I say you're as good a one as I ever saw. You saved a scout's life by doing a good turn and I guess that's enough. But the principal thing about scouting is to finish what you begin. That's why we're here. It doesn't make any difference whether it's a hike or a dinner or a—tournament or what. If you begin it you've got to finish it. If you're a quitter you're no scout. Maybe you like to risk your life and I know you don't risk your life playing tennis. But just the same that's your bee-line hike for to-day."

"I hate tennis," she said.

I said, "Yes, but you don't hate bee-line hikes and if you're supposed to be in a tournament to-day then that's your bee-line hike. And if you don't finish your hike you're a quitter. See?"

"I'm not a quitter," she said.

"I know you're not," I told her. "So you're going back to finish the tournament and get some practice because to-morrow afternoon I'm coming over to Little Valley to beat you."

"Playing tennis?" she said.

"That's what," I told her.

"I can beat you with my left hand," she said.

"All right," I said, "I'm coming over to-morrow to find out. You go home and practice. You finish your bee-line hike and we'll finish ours and to-morrow afternoon at two o'clock——"

"Will you be sure to be there?" she said.

"Positively guaranteed," I told her. "Good-by."

"Why don't you say 'so long' like you do to boys?" she wanted to know.

"So long, see you later," I called.

She was awful funny, that girl.



CHAPTER XXXIII

FROGS AND HATS

One by one we let ourselves down that rope. The only hard part was keeping hold where it went over the edge of the slanting shelf. The cliff was sheer up and down just like Warde had said. But that was the end of our troubles with Nature. Gee whiz, I can get along with Nature all right, but when it comes to farmers—just you wait.

We were mighty glad to see Warde all safe and sound. I said, "Warde, you're the gamest scout that ever lived, but you're reckless. If we had stopped to think we would never have let you go down on that shelf."

He said, "I'm not a scout yet, remember."

"Remember nothing," I told him. "If you keep on, and live through it, I'll have an Eagle Scout in my patrol, I can see that."

"You're never killed till you're killed," Warde said.

"You have to thank that Daring girl," I said. And then we told him all about it.

"Don't ever give up, that's the thing," Dorry said.

"Do you know who you remind me of?" Pee-wee asked Warde. We were all sitting around on the rocks at the foot of the cliff, taking a rest.

"No, who?" Warde asked him.

"A frog," the kid said.

"A frog?" I asked him.

"Sure," he said; "a frog in a story."

"I'd be pleased to meet him," Warde said.

"There were two frogs," the kid said, "and they were out for a walk, and do you know how one of them didn't get killed?"

"Break it to us gently," I said.

"They fell into a bucket of cream," the kid said.

"Was it ice cream?" Hunt asked him.

"It was rich cream," the kid said.

"It was wealthy cream," I said; "go ahead."

"They started to drown," the kid said, "and one of them got discouraged and lost his nerve and didn't try to swim any more and he was drowned."

"Very sad," Westy said.

"The other one kept swimming and swimming and kicking and kicking," the kid said, "and do you know what happened?"

"Can't imagine," Warde said.

"Just by kicking and kicking," the kid said, "he churned some of that cream into butter and pretty soon he was standing all safe on a little island of butter. So that's what he got for not giving up."

"Did he tell you that himself?" I asked him.

"You make me tired," he shouted.

Westy said, "Well, this isn't getting us up the ridge, is it? What do you say we start?"

I said to the kid, "Are you sure that was real butter, or was it just butterine? The Island of Butterine, discovered by a frog scout of the Pollywog Patrol."

"If we start jollying Pee-wee we'll never get up the ridge," one of the fellows said. So then we started.

Now from the desert island of Butterine (just under the cliff) to the ridge was maybe as much as a half a mile. For a little way the land was flat and open and then the ridge began. We would have to go up the side of the ridge. What I mean by a ridge is a long hill, oh, as much as several miles long. We knew a road ran along on the top of that ridge. For a little way we could see the big tree up there. Then, as we came closer to the ridge we couldn't see it on account of the woods.

Now the next adventure we had was before we came to the base of the ridge. I told you there were open fields and the railroad ran north and south. Until we reached the tracks we could see the tree. Pretty soon after that we had to use our compass going up through the woods on the ridge.

All along in the fields beside that railroad track were big wooden signs telling people what they should buy. The country would look better if those big signs were not there. You know the kind of signs I mean—the kind you see when you're riding in the train. One of them says everybody should want to make his home beautiful, so he should buy a certain kind of paint, because beauty is what counts. If the man that owns that sign is worrying so much about things being beautiful I should think he'd take that sign down.

One of these signs was very big and it happened to be right in our path. It says, "Brown's hats are always on top." Maybe that's a joke, kind of. We crossed the tracks and then about a hundred feet farther was the sign. There was a man there who was just finishing doing some painting on it. He had a stepladder and a can of paint and things, and he had a camera, too.

"Maybe that's Mr. Brown," the kid said.

"More likely it's Mr. Hat," I said.

Then I said, "Hey, mister, we're on a bee-line hike and we'd like to go right under that sign if you don't mind."

He said, "Under or over, suit yourselves. The world belongs to the boy scouts."

"Let's climb up the ladder and go over," Westy said.

I said, "No sooner said than stung. Over the top for us."

The man laughed; he was a good-natured man. So we all climbed up on the ladder, one after another, and while we were waiting for the man to carry it around to the back of the sign we all sat in a row on top. Right underneath us were painted the words "Always on top." I made a picture of that sign with all of us sitting on the top of it. The one in the middle is Pee-wee.



Pretty soon the man began laughing and he called up, "That's very good, all sit just where you are a minute. That puts a dash of pep into the ad. Scouts always on top, eh?"

"What's he going to do?" Pee-wee said.

"He's going to take a picture of the ad with us in it," Westy said.

I guess we must have looked pretty funny from down below; anyway the man kept laughing. The way Pee-wee sat there was enough to make any one laugh. He looked as if he thought he was famous already.

The man called, "Just sit naturally and laugh."

"That's easy," I told him; "laughing is our middle name."

"All right," he called.

Then he got behind his camera and held out his hand for us to keep still.

"What are you going to do with it?" one of us called down to him.

He said, "Well, pictures of this ad are used for all sorts of things—hat boxes, everything. Your faces will go all over the country."

"Mine?" Pee-wee shouted.

"Yes, and very likely we'll use this idea for the big signs too," the man said. "We might have some wood cut-outs for scouts. How would that be?"

"Not for this patrol," I shouted down. "We're not wooden scouts."

"Are we a part of the ad?" the kid shouted.

The man said, "That's what you are. Always on top like Brown's hats, eh? Now I'll tell you what you boys do, if you're not in too much of a hurry. You just sit up there till the next train goes by. I've got to hustle to Addison station to catch that train. Our advertising man, Mr. Bull, will be on it and he'll see just how the sign looks with you youngsters on it. I dare say he'll reward you."

"We should worry about rewards," I said. "We're part of an ad, that's enough for us. We'll sit here if the train isn't too long coming."

He said, "Well, you suit yourselves about that, but you've given me an idea and I'm much obliged to you. I think we'll use the scouts-on-top idea."

"We're like Brown's hats, hey?" Pee-wee shouted.

"That's it," the man said.

"Pee-wee's like a soft hat, he's young and tender," Hunt said.

"Sure," I said; "you're the tallest one, you're a high-hat."

Dorry grabbed the top of the sign because the breeze was blowing a little. "I hope I don't blow off like some hats," he said.

The painter went away and we all sat there singing:

"Nine little boy scouts, Asked to sit and wait. One of them got blown off, Then there were eight."



CHAPTER XXXIV

A LITTLE BIT OFF THE TOP

We liked that verse so much that we made another one.

"Eight little boy scouts, Glad there ain't eleven. One of them fell backward, Then there were seven."

Westy said, "If they have a row of wooden scouts up here with the words always on top underneath, that will make a good ad, hey? I wonder how much they'd pay us to sit here all the time?"

"Labor is very high," I said; "about ten feet up. Maybe they'd give us some hats."

"Everything is going up," Westy said; "let's go down."

"Wait till the train goes by," I said. "I'd like Mr. Cow to see us, or whatever his name is."

Then Westy began singing:

"Oh, boy scouts they were nine They were sitting on a sign."

Then Dorry started,

"They do not fear a cop, They always are on top."

And then I sung out,

"They ought to cross the flats, But they're advertising hats."

Then Pee-wee started yelling,

"Oh, Mr. Bull, Your ad is full Of scouts and bull."

"We ought to get a dollar an hour for this," Warde said.

I said, "Aren't you satisfied? Haven't we made you famous? Right away you want to pass the plate."

"You mean the hat," Westy said.

"This is the Brown's Hat Patrol," Will said. "They're superstitious, they believe in signs."

"Listen, here comes the train," somebody said.

"Sit up and look pretty," Dorry shouted.

"We've got all the signs on Broadway beaten," Hunt said.

"Sure," I said, "this is a live sign, full of pep. All sit up straight when the train passes. Remember Mr. Wild Bull is in there. Maybe he'll give us a job on a sign up on top of a building in New York. I'd like to be an electric sign, wouldn't you?"

"I'd rather be a sign of spring," Westy said.

"You'll be pushed over backwards if you crack another one like that," I told him.

"Look at Pee-wee," Dorry said.

I had to laugh at the kid. There he sat right in the middle, straight upright, with his hand up making the full scout salute as the train came along. He looked like a little radiator ornament for an automobile. I guess he felt very proud being part of an ad.

As the train went past all the passengers looked out of the windows, laughing. The more they laughed the straighter Pee-wee sat. All of a sudden, good night, over he went backwards, kerflop, into the marshy land just underneath the sign. All the people in the train howled.

He came up the ladder, with mud and grass all over him, just in time for the people in the last two cars to get a look at him. They just screamed. They even came out on the back platform of the last car, cheering him and laughing at him.

"I—I bet I sold as many as a hundred hats doing that," he said.

I said, "Good night, was that a part of the ad? You look more like an ad for bathing suits than for hats."

He climbed back into his place pulling the wet grass from his face and clothes.

"That's the time you weren't on top," I said. "I hope Mr. Wild Bull didn't see you."

"Here comes a man across the field," Dorry said.

I looked around behind me and saw a man with a great big straw hat and a shirt like a checker-board coming across the field. It seemed as if he was all shirt and hat and suspenders.

"I think there's going to be something doing," Westy said. "I can feel it in the air."

"Thank goodness, we're on top," I said.



CHAPTER XXXV

LOGIC

The man came around in front of the sign and looked up and said, "Well, now, what do you youngsters think you're doing here?"

I said, "Well, we're not so sure but we think we're sitting here."

He said, "Anybody give you permission to come on this land?"

Westy said, "No, but we know lots of people cross here and we thought it was all right. We always heard this was a short-cut to Addison."

Then he asked us if we were going to Addison.

Westy said, "No, but it's just the same crossing your land in one place as another. You can't blame us for thinking it was all right."

The man said, "Well, 'tain't right, by no manner o' means. You're trespassin', that's what you're doing."

Dorry said, "We're sorry."

The man said, "Well, so'm I, because I'm goin' to make an example of you, that's what I'm goin' to do. I'm goin' to learn you a lesson."

I said, "No lessons, this is vacation."

He said, "Haow?"

Westy said, "We're sorry, we can't do any more than say that. We thought it was all right. I don't see what harm we do."

"Well, you'll find out," the man said, good and cross.

All of a sudden Pee-wee shouted down at him, "Anyway, we're not on your land, we're on this sign. Has the sign got a right here?"

The man said, "Well, you youngsters, the people that pay me to let this sign stand here don't pay me to let you climb all over it. Now you come down off there, every one of you, and we'll see what's what. We'll see what the jedge has to say."

"Don't go down," Dorry whispered.

"That shows how much you know about law," Pee-wee shouted down. "My uncle's got a friend who's a lawyer. If this sign has a right here we have a right here because we're part of the sign. You can, ask Mr. Bull who works for Brown's Hats if we're not. Do you see what it says on this sign? Always on top? That means us. It means us just as much as the hats. We belong here, so there."

The man said, "Haow did you get here without trespassin'?"

I said, "That isn't the question. We're here because we're here. The question is has the sign got a right to be here?"

"Sure," Pee-wee yelled down, "that's logic." He looked awful funny sitting up there and shouting down at the man. "Suppose a thing has a right to be in a place but the people that own that thing don't own the place. If you're on the thing——"

"You ain't got no right there," the man shouted up.

"Lift the ladder up," Westy said.

"Sure, that's strategy," Pee-wee said.

So we hauled the ladder up out of the man's reach.

"Do you admit that somebody can own a place that has a thing on it that belongs to somebody else that has something on it——"

"Shut up," I said. Then I said to the man, "It says on this sign that we're on top. You see it? That means us. This kid is right; we're part of this sign, just as if we were painted here."

"Put that ladder down," the man shouted.

"Does it belong to you?" Westy said.

"It's on my land," the man hollered at us.

I said, "Well, we just took it off your land."

"If you want to take the sign away go ahead and do it," Westy said.

"We should worry," I called down.

"We can stand on the law, can't we?" the kid piped up.

"We can sit on the sign, that's better," I said.

The man said, "Are you going to put that ladder down here?"

"No, we're not," Westy said.

"We're part of this sign and we're going to stay here," the kid said. "If anybody paid you money for letting the sign be here, that includes us. We're an advertisement of Brown's Hats, that's what we are. We're on top. It says so. If a thing belongs to a thing, it belongs to that thing and not the land that thing is on, doesn't it? If you rent out a place to put a thing then the thing that's on that thing isn't trespassing on the land that was rented out for the thing underneath it, is it?"

"It's as clear as mud," I said. "We've got as much right here as a man's hat has got on top of his head even if his head is in the wrong place."

"That's logic," the kid shouted.

"It's as true as a false alarm," Westy said.

"Truer," Warde put in.

"A sign is something that's got something on it," our young hero shouted. "Let's hear you deny that."

"And it doesn't make any difference what's on it," Dorry said. "An ad's an ad, isn't it?"

"Most always," I said. "It says here we're on top, so there's the proof. We're here because we're here. You can do that by long division."

"We're secure," the kid said.

"As long as we don't fall over backwards," I told him.

"Anyway, we're not trespassing now," Hunt put in.

"Posilutely not," I said.

The man said, "All right, if you've got a right there, stay there. Only don't come down on my land. If you've got a right on top, you haven't got any right down here. I'll let you see some logic, whatever that is. You can set up there and I'll set down here, and you can stay till the sign rots. You're such clever youngsters. Always on top, huh? Well, you can stay up there with Brown's hats and see how you like it. This land down here belongs to me, by gum!"



CHAPTER XXXVI

THE SIEGE

He sat down on a nice big comfortable rock and took out a pipe and filled it and started smoking. He looked as if he was going to stay there for a couple of years or so.

Will Dawson said, "Now you see what we get for standing on our rights. About ten years from now our skeletons will be found sitting on this sign."

"Always on top," Westy said.

"If we go down there we get arrested; if we stay up here we starve," Hunt said.

"Sure, that's logic," I said. "I'm not so crazy about being part of an ad."

"We've got a right here, it's a technicality," the kid said.

"Yes, but I'm not so stuck on technicalities," I told him. "You can't eat them."

"Let's drown our sorrows in song," Westy said.

So then we all started singing and this is what we worked around to:

"We're here because we're here, Deny it if you dare; And the reason we're up here, Is because we're not down there."

I said, "Believe me, I've had enough of the advertising business. I'm getting hungry. The next time I pose it will be for a restaurant."

"I'm going to retire from the hat business," Tom Warner said. "See where it's left us."

I said, "Sure, we've risen very high in the hat business. We've risen to the top. How about our bee-line hike?"

"We can go through everything except a jail," Westy said.

The farmer just sat there on the rock with one knee over the other, smoking his pipe, very calm like.

I said, "I wonder if we could go to sleep here like birds?"

"Pee-wee ought to be able to," Westy said.

"Sure, he's a canary——"

"Will you keep still with that?" the kid yelled.

"I wish the weekly animated news of all the world could see us now," I said. "'Boy Scouts marooned on an ad,' that's what they'd put. 'Starving on a desert advertising sign.'"

The farmer down there on the rock didn't laugh at all, he just sat there smoking.

"This is a siege," the kid said.

"We're blockaded," another one shouted.

"I bet Minerva Skybrow could get us out of this," I said. "Anybody who likes algebra——Hey, Scout Harris, I thought you said that a scout is resourceful. Can't you pass out a little resourcefulness? We'll turn into mummies up here."

"We'll sacrifice our lives for Brown's hats," Warde said.

So then we started to sing again, each scout singing something different, but pretty soon we all got in line with this; it's a kind of a sequel to "Over There":

"Way up here, Way up here; Just our luck, To be stuck; Way up here. And we won't go home, 'Cause we're stuck away up here."

"Oh, here comes the painter!" one of the fellows shouted.

"Shaved!" I yelled.

"He was shaved before," Hunt said.

"I mean saved," I told him.

"He has reinforcements with him," Pee-wee shouted.

"There's one of Brown's hats with a man under it," Ralph Warner said.

I said, "I guess that's Mr. Wild Bull. Thank goodness, they'll relieve the starving population."

"Anyway, we held out," the kid said.

"Sure," I said. "The battle of Brown's hat sign. Wounded, none. Killed, none. Hungry, everybody."

Then we all set up a cheer for the painter and the other man. When they came near enough I shouted, "Hey, mister, we're thinking of retiring from the hat business."

"Hey, mister," Pee-wee shouted; "aren't we a part of this sign?"

"Absolutely," the painter said. "You're the best part of it."

"Now you see!" Pee-wee shouted down at the farmer, "You thought we were just hanging around here. Now you see! We're just as much on top as the hats are."

"Except when we fall down," I said.

"A man's hat might blow off, mightn't it?" the kid yelled. "That wouldn't prove his hat isn't on top, would it?"

"That's a very fine argument," the man who was with the painter said.

"I know some better ones than that," Pee-wee yelled down at him. "Do you know we caught a bandit?"

"Hey, mister," I said, "haven't we got a right up here?"

"That's what it says," the man laughed.

Then the painter said, "Boys, I want you to meet Mr. Slinger Bull, advertising man for Brown's hats. He is very much taken with the idea of having scouts on top of our signs."

I said, "Believe me, we came near being taken. We're going to retire from the business."

Mr. Bull said, "Too late, your pictures will soon be all over the country."

"Mine too?" Pee-wee yelled.

"And we're going to use the scout idea—scouts on top; wood cut-outs, of course."

"Wouldn't live cut-ups do?" I asked him. "Because that's us."

Mr. Bull, he just laughed and he said, "Who's leader here?"

"I am," I told him.

He said, "Well, I want your name and address. We'll probably want you to pose. Did you ever pose?"

Pee-wee said, "We were in the movies, in the imitated news."

"Sure, we used to pose for animal crackers," I said.

"Hey, Mr. Bull," Dorry called down; "if we're on this sign are we trespassing?"

"No more than the paint is," Mr. Bull said, looking kind of sideways at the farmer. I guess Mr. Bull saw how it was all right. "You boys are protected by your contract with Mr. Grabberberry here. You're absolutely safe, you're covered."

"By Brown's hats," Westy said.

Mr. Bull said, "Exactly. The sentence above refers to you. You've given us an idea."

"We have lots of ideas," Pee-wee said.

I said, "I've got an idea we'd like to get away from here; we're hungry. We've been in the hat business for over an hour. We've got a date with a tree."

He said, "The world belongs to the boy scouts. Everybody knows them and likes them. To say they're on top is just telling the truth. I think we will hook you boys up with Brown's hats. We may ask you to pose. Brown's hats are known the world over. Step right down, boys, and have no fear."

"Did you see me from the train?" Pee-wee asked him. "Did you see me fall backwards? I bet I sold a lot of hats that way, hey?"

"Oceans of them," Mr. Bull said.

You can bet we weren't afraid with a bull to protect us. We went down the ladder and the farmer didn't say a word. I guess he was thinking about the money he got from Brown's hats all right. He said to Mr. Bull, very nice and polite, "I kinder thought they wuz trespassin', you know. 'N I was a-scared they'd get inter some trouble."

"Believe me," I said, "we can't get into trouble because we never got out of it. Anyway, we like the hat business pretty well and I wouldn't mind living on a sign except for getting hungry."

So then Mr. Slinger Bull tried to make us take five dollars for our trouble, but we wouldn't take it because scouts don't accept money for that kind of a service. Anyway, it wasn't a service at all, it was just fun. I bet you never heard of anybody being marooned on a desert signboard before.



CHAPTER THE LAST (THANK GOODNESS)

IT HASN'T GOT ANY NAME

Now that was the last adventure that we had that day. But we've had a lot since then. We picked our way up through the woods on the side of the ridge, using our compass, because we couldn't see far ahead. It was getting dark and the woods were awful still. Every time a twig cracked under us it seemed to make a loud noise. There were crickets chirping too. It kind of reminded me of Temple Camp after supper. We kept straight west because we knew that was where the tree was. I guess we all got sort of excited as we came up near to the top of the ridge.

I said, "I'm glad the last part of our hike is through the woods. Maybe we had a lot of fun in Bridgeboro and in Little Valley, but the woods for me."

Pretty soon we came out into the open and there in the dusk stood the great big tree all by itself. It seemed awful solemn like.

Westy said, "Look! Away off there in the east. See?"

Oh, boy! Away, way, way off across the country we had come through was like a shaft of dust sticking right up into the sky. It was the searchlight on the Bridgeboro fire-house.

"Let's start a good big fire," I said, "so our folks will know we're all right. Then we'll start home."

So we started a fire and sat around it and jollied each other and especially Pee-wee—you know how we're always doing. And we roasted the potatoes that we had with us and they tasted good, kind of like smoke.

After a while Westy said, "Well, here's the end of our bee-line hike and I bet we didn't go more than about ten or twenty feet out of our path all the way."