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

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

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

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

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

And Paul was many times satisfied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER IX

"WELL DONE, MY BOY!"

"There, some more gone, Paul!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And nothing was missing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER X

AN UNEXPECTED OFFER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the farmer raised his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER XI

CAUGHT NAPPING

"Silence!"

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

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

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

Peleg's face fell several degrees at this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But now?" ventured Paul.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It certainly was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER XII

THE RIVAL TROOPS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul had to laugh out loud at this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then there was a time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER XIII

"FIRE!"

"Man the bellows, somebody."

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

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

The boys had had a fine meeting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Silence!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where shall we meet?" asked Jud Elderkin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Every voice was hushed.

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

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

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



CHAPTER XIV

JACK'S CHANCE

"Wow! look at that, will you?"

"It's a barn most likely!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They're going over!" howled Bobolink.

"Smash!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A groan of dismay went up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER XV

THE HONOR BRAND

"He's gone!"

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

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

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

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

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

Jack found himself in the midst of dense smoke as soon as he plunged across the doorsill. He had foreseen this, and with a wisdom beyond his years made simple preparations to combat the evil.

On the way to the door he passed close by one who carried a bucket of water, and some happy inspiration caused him to snatch out his handkerchief and dip it into the cool liquid, not wringing it out to any extent.

This he clapped over his nose, so that in breathing the wet cloth would keep much of the suffocating vapor from being drawn into his lungs.

His eyes began to smart furiously. By the time he was half way up the stairs he could not see a thing around him save murky clouds of smoke, lighted by the tongues of flame that darted like serpents out of many places.

He staggered up still further, and fell on the landing. But gaining his feet again he pushed on, still heading in the right direction. Only for the knowledge he possessed regarding the interior of the building, Jack would have lost his bearings then and there. The result must have been serious indeed.

Along the hall he went. It seemed to grow hotter the further he pushed; but even that did not daunt him. Once enlisted in a good cause he must go on, no matter what faced him. Had not Paul said words to that effect, after telling them what it meant to be a tried and true scout?

And here the opportunity had come to him not half an hour after the thrilling words were spoken!

Those outside while still sending the buckets of water along, in the effort to save one portion of the large house, were waiting to see what came of Jack's attempt at rescue.

"He's lost!" declared one, as the fire broke out in a new place; "see, that's the tower burning now, and she said the baby was in the room next there."

"Poor old Jack! to think it should be him to go!" groaned Bobolink; "see, Paul, there's his father passing the buckets along. He don't even know his boy is in the old shack! Oh! my, whatever did he take chances like that for?"

"Because he couldn't stand and see that poor mother shrieking for her baby. Because he's got the strongest heart of us all! That's why!" declared Paul, his voice vibrating with love for the chum he might never see alive again.

And Bobolink said to himself:

"By the jumpin' Jehosaphat, I believe Paul would have gone if Jack hadn't. He's lookin' at that house now like he wanted to run right in and tear it to flinders."

"There he is at the window!" whooped a man's heavy voice.

Instantly every eye ranged along the front of the building, wherever the columns of smoke permitted. And many a finger was pointed at the one where a waving hat served to draw attention.

"He's shouting something. Keep still, everybody!"

A dead silence immediately ensued. Only the roaring and crackling of the hungry flames could be heard, as every ear was strained to catch what it was the imperiled boy was saying.

"He's got the baby—look! he's holding her up!"

A shriek came from the agonized mother, and she fell on her knees with clasped hands.

"Listen to what he says!"

"Go to back of house—get ladder to window there!" called Jack huskily, at the top of his voice.

"Hurrah! we understand, old fellow! We'll have you out of that yet!" whooped Bobolink, starting on the run around the end of the mansion.

"A ladder—bring it around, boys! Let's save the brave youngster!" howled the tall foreman.

The ladder happened to be up against the building at a point where the flames had now burst forth, driving the fire-fighters back. Himself, the foreman led in a bold forward rush to capture the required ladder; nor was he to be denied, scorning the efforts of the licking tongues of fire to daunt him.

Then, with a swarm of followers, he pushed around the corner. Here, to be sure, there did seem to be less of smoke and blaze, owing to the direction of the night wind.

Now they were placing the ladder. It reached up to a window, and if only Jack would show himself all might be well. Seconds were like an eternity to those who crowded below, every face upturned, and every eye ranging along the side of the house.

The fire was pushing in this direction too, for it suddenly burst out of a broken window. From many pairs of lips there burst a groan. Well did they know that every second counted against the boy, who was doubtless groping his way along halls and through rooms filled with that overpowering smoke.

"There he is!"

It was like a sudden electric shock, that cry. The clarion notes of a bugle would not have thrilled that vast crowd one half so surely as did the appearance of a head at a window on the left.

Jack had been shrewd enough to pick out a room that was further away from the devouring flames. A hoarse shout went up at sight of him.

"He's got the baby too!" was the tenor of that victorious cry; and it was as though every man and boy and other person present felt a personal interest in the success of Jack's daring venture.

The precious baby was saved; yes, he was hugging the bundle to his breast; and during a lull in the clamor they plainly heard the lusty cries that proceeded from that shawl-wrapped package. Those were doubtless the most blessed sounds that ever reached the strained ears of the praying mother.

Quickly was the ladder lifted and rushed along the wall of the house until it stood beneath the window where Jack had shown himself.

The foreman himself mounted as soon as it was in position. But Jack refused to hand over his burden, nor could Mr. Elderkin insist. It was only right that the one who had saved the little darling should have the pleasure of placing her in the arms of the frantic mother.

But he could and did guide Jack's feet as they sought the rounds of the friendly ladder, so that presently the boy, with singed hair, and begrimed with smoke, was lifted to the ground.

Hardly had Jack landed than a pair of arms encircled both him and the baby; for in that happy moment the mother realized what she owed this brave lad; and her heart was brimming over with gratitude.

Such shouts as went up then! Those still coming to the scene must have thought the wearers of the fire hats had succeeded in running a line of hose into a position where victory was assured.

Again the bucket brigade got busy, working with renewed zeal, though but little hope of saving any portion of the big building now remained. But every one was roused up to fever pitch by the excitement of the hour. And Jack's valiant work had helped inspire them to renewed deeds of endeavor.

Paul led his chum away, for Jack was almost exhausted. Then came Mr. Stormways on the run, having just learned what his boy had done. He seized Jack in his arms, and shed tears over him; though at the same time his heart must have swelled within him with satisfaction that one of his brood had acquitted himself so well in a crisis that called for a cool head and nerves of steel.

The flames kept on eating into the old building. It was now doomed, and the fire laddies confined their efforts to saving any furniture that could be carried out.

Paul called his scouts around him, at the request of the old minister. They were rather a sorry looking group, though just as full of a desire to assist as ever. The fine new uniforms were bedraggled with mud and water. Several had holes burned in their coats, and that of Jack was a sight to behold.

But who cared? After all, the uniforms were but an insignia of their connection with a great organization. New or old they stood for a principle; and gallantly had Stanhope Troop No. 1 responded when the need arose.

The old and highly respected minister, whose heart was filled with a great love for the rising generation, shook hands with each and every scout, declaring that he was proud of the privilege.

"Don't mind the soiling of your new uniforms, lads. Every mark found upon them to-morrow must serve as a badge of honor to the wearer. After this it will be the tried and true scout who can point to a burnt hole in his smart coat, and say 'I got that the night of the great fire up at Bradley's!' And what shall I say of this fine member of your patrol who so bravely risked his own life to save that of a mother's baby? Only that his own mother has reason to thank God to-night because of such a son. We all love him!" and a tear fell on Jack's hand as the old man squeezed it.



CHAPTER XVI

THE FIRE TEST

"All here, Paul!"

Jack saluted as he said this, and smiled to see the look the scout leader gave his scorched and discolored uniform.

Although Jack had spent an hour and more that morning trying to clean up his suit and leggins, they showed many signs of the hard service to which they had been put on the previous night.

Several of the fellows carried cameras. They had signed for the photographic test, and hoped to get some fine views of the troop in action. These would possibly be entered for competition when the other commands in the county lined up to strive for leadership in the last great event—the winning of the banner.

Presently the town clock struck the hour.

"Fall in!"

Two by two they marched out of town. People came to the doors to watch them; and many a girl waved her handkerchief vigorously. But there was no response. Much as some of the lads might have liked to raise a hat, and send back an answering salute, they had already learned how to keep their eyes to the front, on penalty of being given bad marks that might tell against them later on.

More than one parent looked to see how the boy nearest their hearts bore himself. Proudly they watched the long double line swinging down the street, keeping excellent step, considering how little time they had had for drill.

Other boys there were who stood on the corners and mocked. Of course these were the followers of Ted Slavin, envious of the popularity already attained by Paul's patrol. Some of them had been at the fire, and witnessed the deed of daring carried out by Jack Stormways. Jealous of the other troop they tried to taunt them by various cries; but without success.

However, most of them did not venture to tag after the marching corps. They knew that even the wonderful patience of these fellows would have its limit, and that a sudden turn might be made upon the tormentors that could hardly prove pleasant for the minority.

Out of the town limits they went, still keeping step. Ted and Ward trailed behind, but there was no more taunting done.

"They mean to follow, and see what we are up to," said Jack, when he came alongside the leader again.

"Well, we can't stop them from doing that, I suppose. The woods are free to all. Let them look. If they can pick up a few pointers, well and good. When we lead, you know we can afford to laugh at those who follow," returned the other.

"Sure, because they'll never catch up with us in a year," laughed Jack.

For a full mile they continued, never once breaking ranks.

"We're nearly there, fellows. You're doing fine, I tell you. Keep it up through to the end. Why, you march like veterans already!"

In this fashion did the scout leader warm every heart, and cause those who were beginning to tire of the jaunt to grit their teeth, and resolve that nothing must be allowed to interfere with the completion of the march.

"Left wheel!" came the command, as the van drew abreast of an opening where a wagon road entered the woods.

Still those two curious ones trailed in the rear, determined to ascertain what it was that took the Fox Patrols out of town this day.

Presently, surrounded by the giant trees, still green with their summer foliage, Paul gave the command to halt and break ranks.

Immediately the twenty-six lads began fraternizing. Those owning cameras started to look around for openings where some promising view offered. But most of the scouts clustered around the leader, eager to hear what the programme of the day would embrace.

"First comes the fire test. There are a dozen fellows who have come prepared to qualify for that. And I think we shall have an interesting competition. Here, all who have hatchets get busy, and cut wood."

Paul himself led the way, for he delighted in using the little camp axe which he often "toted" into the woods, when hunting or camping.

The sound of chopping soon resounded through the timber, and by degrees quite a pile of wood had been accumulated. But all this was simply to loosen up the muscles of the competitors; for they were not to be allowed to use any of this fuel, which was for the main campfire.

Once this had been started, Paul distributed a dozen tin kettles that had been brought along. These were all of the same size. Moreover, they had a plain mark two-thirds of the way up, which was to limit the amount of cold water from the near-brook which they must contain.

"Here are five matches for each one of you. Every fellow is placed on his honor not to have a single other one in his possession. You are not to use any kind of paper in kindling your fires. Just imagine that you are adrift in the wilderness, where a newspaper is never seen. And in the end when a kettle begins to boil the owner of it must shout and raise his hand. I will have inspectors appointed whose duty it will be to see that all is fairly done."

"Don't we get more than these five matches?" asked one of the contestants.

"That is all. And remember, that if two are tied when the quart of water boils, the fellow who can show the most unused matches comes in ahead. That is a valuable point, for it proves that he knows how to conserve his resources. A match is sometimes of priceless value to a man lost in the big timber."

"Tell us again what we must do, Paul."

"Form a line right here. When I say 'go,' every fellow dart off to some place he has in mind. With your hatchets you are to chop wood, and get a fire started as quick as you can. Then place your kettle on it, and keep on adding fuel until the water boils. I will time every contestant myself, and keep a record. But this is just a preliminary trial. We'll have another later on. Ready, all?"

The twelve contestants lined up, while the others watched operations. Even the two outsiders had kept getting closer, so as to understand all that was done. And as Ward had his gold watch in his hand it was evident that he intended to do a little timing himself.

"He wants to see how our best compares with what some of his fellows will do," remarked Jack, to Paul.

"All right. He's welcome. The more the merrier. If they have any fellow who is more at home in the woods than Wallace Carberry for instance, I'd just like to know it," returned the other, promptly.

"How about you, Paul? I guess Wallace would stand a mighty poor show if he ran a race with the head scout," returned the second in command.

"That's something we've never settled yet. Wallace and I must have a chance at each other some day; but not yet. Now watch them scurry around. Every fellow has his mind made up where he can cut wood easiest. I've made them bring in all loose stuff, you see, so that they start on an even thing. Here goes!"

Paul raised his hand, and exclaimed:

"Go!"

Immediately the dozen lads darted frantically off. Several came near having a collision right in the start, which would have been fatal to their chances for winning out; since the water in their kettles must have been spilled; and according to the rules of the contest they could not refill the same without journeying to the creek, which Paul had made sure was fully fifty yards distant.

It was a laughable, as well as interesting sight.

Having reached the various places mentally selected as the scene of their intended operations in fire building, the boys set down their kettles, and commenced to feverishly whack away at dead branches, or other wood.

In several instances two of them happened to pick out the same place, and naturally there was considerable rivalry between them, as well as an exchange of remarks intended to irritate and delay.

"Look at Wallace, will you!" observed Jack, presently; "nearly all the others have smoke going, but he's chipping away as steadily as you please. Why, he seems in no hurry at all. I guess he doesn't want to come in ahead!"

"Wait, my boy," laughed Paul. "You don't know that sly fox. He's up to all the dodges at fire making, and believes in a good start. Some of those smokes never will amount to much, for they just struggle along, and threaten to go out because it takes all the puffing the fellows can give to keep them alive. Now he's going to strike up. Only one match needed with Wallace, you see."

"And how his blaze jumps! You were right; he made sure he had enough fine kindling first, before starting in. Now he's adding larger stuff; and what's this he's doing with those stones?"

"What do you suppose?" said the scout leader, nodding his head approvingly. "Making a little fireplace where he can perch his kettle, and have the hottest part of his fire under it. Note also that the opening is in the direction of the breeze. That allows the flame to be fanned. Wallace will never have to blow out his cheeks and puff to keep his blaze going."

By this time some of the contestants were bobbing their heads to ascertain just how Wallace had done it; and made haste to follow suit. All were willing to take pattern from a past master who knew the wrinkles of the game.

One upset his kettle, and despairing of having any show, withdrew from the race.

Eleven fires kept on burning, some of them under protest, apparently, for they did not give much promise of landing their unlucky builders as victors.

"How long is it?" asked Jack, presently, as certain signs caught his eye that told him the end was near.

"Just nine minutes; but—"

"Look at Wallace," cried Jack; "he's raising his hat. There goes an inspector to see. He nods his head. The water must be boiling; and who would have thought it? Hurrah for the Carberry Twin! Look at Ted and Ward! They act as if they thought there was some trickery, for they're running up to see. I guess they've tried this game, and come in under the wire in about fifteen minutes. Hello! there's Bluff calling out. Good boy! He's going to run Wallace a race next time. But I'd like to see you make the test, Paul?"



CHAPTER XVII

CLEARING SKIES

Paul made no reply to this remark of his chum.

Having studied the charms of outdoor life always, he knew that he would be placing his friends under a heavy handicap if he ever attempted to compete with them in woodlore.

True, just as he said, Wallace was somewhat of an unknown quantity; for he, too, seemed to have a deep love for everything connected with life in the forest, and never tired of reading books that told of pioneers and their ways.

The scout leader immediately started some of the boys along another tack. They were given a chance to find a lost trail, to detect all manner of signs such as would be apt to tell how long previously some one had passed that way; and to discover where the tracks came out of the creek, upon the bed of which the unknown had walked quite some distance.

Of course, Paul had made the trail himself in the morning, running out here on his wheel so as to prepare the ground. And when they all failed to find out just how the party had left the creek, since the marked tracks did not seem to appear anywhere along the banks, he pointed to where the limb of a tree hung down over the water.

"That's the ticket!" cried Bobolink, excitedly. "See, fellows, how it's skinned where his shoes scraped along it."

"As sure as shooting he climbed up into that tree!" declared one, excitedly.

"Then scatter, and examine the ground around the trunk!" said Paul.

A minute or so later a happy whoop announced that one of the searchers had discovered the wished-for signs; and away the whole troop went on a trot, following the leader.

Meanwhile the photographers managed to get in some of their efforts, possibly unbeknown to the rest. Exposures where the subjects are unconscious of their posing always turn out best; since they avoid stiffness, such as ruins so many otherwise interesting pictures.

Here, with the woods for a background, Paul, acting by agreement as temporary scout master, drilled his followers in scout law, sign, salute, and the significance of the badges which they wore, all of them, of course, of the tenderfoot type, since few had as yet started to qualify for any higher plane.

Signal flags had been brought along; and a class in semaphore work proved that some of the members of the troop were making rapid progress along that line. They had mastered the Morse code, too; and had the occasion arisen might have sent messages over the wire, although probably none save Paul could have received the same, unless the words came painfully slow.

The afternoon passed almost before they realized it; and more than a few declared that the sun must have dropped like a plummet, when they found twilight creeping upon the forest.

Both Ted and Ward had long since gone away, as though disgusted. They had tried to sneer at the work of Stanhope Troop No. 1; but every one knew this humor was assumed; and that secretly they were eating their very hearts out for envy.

No doubt there would be a hot time among their followers, when the leaders endeavored to drive them to beat the record Wallace Carberry had set in his fire starting, and water-boiling test.

"Suppose you come to supper with me, Paul," suggested Jack, when they were more than half way back to town, with the double column moving along like clockwork, every right leg thrust out in unison, as though forming a part of a well-regulated machine.

Paul looked quickly at him when Jack said this.

"Oh! I can see through a millstone, when it has a hole in it," he remarked.

"Which is one way of saying that you can guess I have a motive in asking you?" returned the other, smiling queerly; "well, I have, in fact, several. In the first place my mother told me to ask you. I rather think she wants to pump you about that affair last night. Father wouldn't tell her all she wished to know. Then again I'm still all broken up about those lost coins; and I thought perhaps you might have guessed the answer to the riddle."

"What's that? More of them gone, Jack?" asked Paul, lowering his voice, so that the two scouts at the tail end of the line might not hear.

"Don't know yet. Didn't have the nerve to go up into my den since this morning. To tell the truth that place has lost all charm for me. Whenever I find myself there I get to shivering, and looking around, just like I half expected to see a ghost step out, and pick up one of those miserable coins right before my very eyes—ugh! it's horrible to feel that way, and I used to be so fond of my den, too."

"Oh! I hope and expect you will be again, Jack, when we've settled this little thing. You say none of them were ever taken in the night?" said Paul, earnestly; while his knitted brows told how much he felt concerned over the mystery.

"Certainly not. Always in broad daylight. That's the queer part of it," returned the other, promptly.

"Sure, seeing that they always go in the daytime, and when you're away from home, too. Anybody else going to be there to-night?"

"To supper—oh! no. Karl went off after breakfast, to visit our uncle for a few days before school commences. I took him to the train myself, and then mustered up enough courage to climb up there, and once more count the coins," went on Jack.

"Six there then, eh?" asked Paul.

"Just as last night. And I purposely left the door unlocked."

"Both door and window open in the bargain?" asked the other; at which Jack looked puzzled.

"Of course; though that wouldn't matter at all; for any fellow could turn the knob, and walk in," he replied.

"But the door was open, just like a plain invitation to enter, should anybody think of going up to see—say that again, please," continued Paul.

"Well, I do say it again, though I can't understand why you should make that a point worth mentioning. Still, I have confidence in you, Paul. If anybody can get at the root of my trouble it's going to be you, old fellow."

"I hope you prove a true prophet. As for myself I'm not saying anything just yet, one way or another," smiled Paul.

"Yes, but I really believe that you've found out something that gives you a pointer, Paul. Your face tells me that. You're a wonder about following a trail in the woods. And I believe you see light in this darkness around me!" and Jack looked eagerly into the face of his chum as he said this.

"All I'm going to confess is that I believe I'm on the trail, and that it seems to be getting warmer the further I go. Just hold your horses a little while longer, Jack, and perhaps I may be able to tell you something."

"The way you smile gives me new courage, old fellow. Oh! I will be so glad if only it turns out all right. But here we are at the smithy. Shall you dismiss the troop here, Paul?"

"Yes. The boys must be pretty tired after last night's work, and this hike; as well as the many stunts they went through with," and the temporary master scout presently gave the order to break ranks, and head for home.

"Drop in at my house so I can tell my folks not to expect me to dinner," said Paul, as they approached his home.

There was not the slightest objection to the programme as arranged. His parents trusted Paul fully, knowing that, while as fond of fun as the next lad, he never did things likely to get him into trouble.

"Now, first of all," remarked Paul, after they were indoors again; "let's go up, and make sure that anything has happened."

The door to Jack's den stood wide open, inviting any one to enter.

Jack had a match lighted in his hand, and with this he quickly touched the wick of a lamp. Paul heard him draw a long breath as he approached the spot where the little box lay upon the table desk at which stood the chair used by the owner of the den when taking his leisure here.

He bent over, and seemed to be counting the coins. They dropped back into the receptacle one by one, and with such a ringing sound that even Paul was able to keep tally. Then Jack turned an anxious and white face around.

"Paul, there are only four here. Two more have gone!" he said.

"Yet you came up here and counted them; you are positive of that?" demanded Paul.

"I counted them, and there were six. Five times I did it, to be sure; yet you saw that there were only four just now?"

"You came up here after you saw Karl off on the train?" persisted his chum.

"Yes, after I returned from the station. But what makes you ask that? Tell me why you are grinning so, Paul? I know I'm awfully dull just now, but who could blame me under the circumstances? Please speak up!" Jack insisted.

"Why, don't you see, this clears Karl completely. Six here while he was riding away on the train this morning; and two taken when he is fifty miles away! Don't that satisfy you it wasn't your brother, after all, Jack?"

And Jack dropped down in that chair, letting his head fall in his hands, while a great joy overspread his face.



CHAPTER XVIII

CARLO DOES HIS TURN

"Paul, you're a wizard, I do believe!" said Jack, after a bit, as he looked up at his chum.

"Well, I hardly think so. This thing was easy; and ten to one you'd have thought of it sooner or later. For how could Karl have anything to do with the bad business while he was up at your uncle's?" laughed the other, with his customary modesty.

"But if not Karl, then who got my old coins?" persisted Jack, smiling now.

"Well, I'm not quite ready to say. I've got two ideas I'm chasing after now. Give me just a little more time on that, will you, old fellow?" replied the visitor, as he dropped down on a cot, and let his eyes rove along the exhibit of college colors illuminating the walls.

He drew the little box that held the coins toward him. When Jack was not observing, Paul took the contents out, one by one, and seemed to be examining them closely. He even scratched one with his finger nail, and the result appeared to please him, for he chuckled softly. Evidently he had made a discovery which he deemed important.

Jack, having finished some little task with which he had busied himself, came back to his chum.

"See here, Paul," he remarked; "I'm not going to ask you to tell me who it is you suspect; but do I know him?"

"Sure," replied his chum; "and perhaps after we've found out the wonderful secret, you may even find it in your heart to look on it as a joke, and forgive him."

"You don't say? Perhaps, though, I might hardly feel like forgiving a fellow who would be mean enough to sneak up here so often, and take my old coins. Think of the ugly feelings he's made me have toward my own brother. I'll never look Karl in the eye after this without feeling conscience-stricken. I don't know about forgiving him so easy as all that," grumbled Jack.

"Oh! well, don't cross a bridge till you come to it. That's a good motto for you and for me. Perhaps there are times when I feel the need of it. Perhaps there's one right now," and Paul shrugged his shoulders as he spoke, half laughingly.

"There, I knew that something had gone wrong with you lately. I've watched you when you thought I wasn't looking, and I've seen you frown. Suppose you take your old chum into your confidence, Paul? What's happened? Any trouble at home? Are you bothered over the Boy Scout troop we've been organizing? Is it about your school affairs?"

Paul shook his head each time the other brought forward a suggestion.

"You're a most determined fellow, Jack," he said, good naturedly; "and perhaps I hadn't ought to speak of such a thing to anybody; but we've been chums so long, and misery likes company, you know."

"Then you are in trouble; and you mean to confess to me? Thank you, Paul, for what you say. I don't think I ever had any cause for worrying that I didn't come straight to you for comfort. And I always got it, too."

"Even when you and Dorothy had that nasty little spat that began to look serious until I just happened to find the note that made all the trouble, and forced Eli Kosmer to confess he wrote it. You remember that time, Jack?"

"I guess I do. Dorothy often speaks of it to this day; for we're good friends, and always will be. But see here, why do you just happen to mention that business? Oh! I begin to see now," added Jack, as Paul turned red in the face, and laughed in a rather constrained way.

"I shouldn't wonder but what you did. I'm sure I've denied every other cause you could think of," he said, sighing heavily.