it,” replied the other, “his only regret being that as he is often called out of town he might not be able to give the matter all the attention he would like.”

“That’s great news anyhow, Tom!” declared Josh, beaming with satisfaction. “We’ve just been figuring things out, and believe we can find eight fellows who would be willing to make up the first patrol.”

“We would need that many for a starter,” commented Tom; “because according to the rules he tells me there must be at least one full patrol before a troop can be started. And I’m glad you can figure on enough. It’s going to make it a success from the start.”

“There’s yourself to begin with,” remarked Josh, counting with his fingers; “Felix, Walter Douglass, George here, Billy Button, Horace Crapsey, Carl and myself, making the eight we need for a patrol.”

“I’m glad you’re all anxious to join,” said Tom, glancing from one eager face to the other, as they walked slowly down the street in a group.

“Why, so far as that goes, Tom,” ventured Felix Robbins, “most of us are counting the days before we can be wearing our khaki suits and climbing up out of the tenderfoot bunch to that of second-class scout. Only Carl here seems to be kind of holding back; though none of us can see why he should want to go and leave his old chums in the lurch.”

At that Tom gave Carl another look a little more searching than his first. He was immediately struck by the fact that Carl did not seem as happy as usual. He and Tom had been close chums for years. That fact made Tom wonder why the other had not taken him into his confidence, if there was anything wrong.

Carl must have known that the eyes of his chum were upon him for he flushed, and then looked hastily up.

“Oh! it isn’t that I wouldn’t be mighty glad of the chance to go into this thing with the rest of you,” he hastened to say; “don’t believe that I’m getting tired of my old chums. It isn’t that at all. But something has happened to make me think I may be kept so busy that I’d have no time to give to studying up scout laws and attending meetings.”

“Oh! forget it all, Carl, and come in with us,” urged Josh, laying a hand affectionately on the other’s shoulder. “If it’s anything where we can help, you know as well as you do your own name that there isn’t a fellow but would lay himself out to stand back of you. Isn’t that so, boys?”

Three other voices instantly joined in to declare that they would only be glad of the opportunity to show Carl how much they appreciated him. It always touches a boy to find out how much his chums think of him. There was a suspicious moisture about Carl’s eyes as he smiled and nodded his head when replying.

“That’s nice of you, fellows. But after all perhaps I may see my way clear to joining the troop. I hope so, anyway, and I’ll try my best to make the riffle. Now Tom, tell us all Mr. Witherspoon said.”

“Yes, we want to know what we’d have to do the first thing,” added Josh, who was about as quick to start things as Felix Robbins was slow. “I sent off and got a scout manual. It came last night, and I’m soaking up the contents at a great rate.”

“That was why I saw a light over in your room late last night, was it?” George Cooper demanded. “Burning the midnight oil. Must have been interesting reading, seems to me, Josh.”

“I could hardly tear myself away from the book,” responded the other boy. “After to-night I’ll loan it to the rest of you, though I guess Tom must have got one from Mr. Witherspoon, for I see something bulging in his pocket.”

Tom laughed at that.

“Josh,” he said, “it’s very plain to me that you will make a pretty clever scout, because you’ve got the habit of observing things down to a fine point. And if you’ve read as much as you say, of course you know that one of the first things a tenderfoot has to do is to remember to keep his eyes about him, and see things.”

“Yes,” added Josh, eagerly, “one test is for each boy to stand in front of a store window for just two minutes, making a mental map of the same, and then go off to jot down as many objects as he can remember to have seen there.”

“That’s quite a stunt,” remarked Felix thoughtfully; “and I reckon the one who can figure out the biggest number of articles goes up head in the class. I must remember and practice that game. It strikes me as worth while.”

“Listen to the row up there, will you?” burst out George Cooper just then. “Why, that lot of boys seems to be having a snowball fight, don’t they? Hello! it isn’t a battle after all, but they’re pelting somebody or other. See how the balls fly like a flock of pigeons from Carl’s coop!”

“It looks like a man they’re bombarding!” ejaculated Felix.

“You’re right about that, and an old man in the bargain,” added Tom as he quickened his steps involuntarily; “I can see that bully Tony Pollock leading the lot; yes, and the other fellows must be his cronies, Wedge McGuffey and Asa Green.”

“See the poor old fellow try to dodge the balls!” exclaimed Josh. “They’re making them like ice too, and I wouldn’t put it past that lot to pack a stone in each snowball in the bargain. They’d be equal to anything.”

“Are we going to stand by and see that sport go on, boys?” asked Carl as he shut his jaws tight together, and the light of indignation shone in his eyes.

“We wouldn’t be fit to wear the khaki of scouts if we did, fellows!” cried Tom Chesney. “Come on, and let’s give them a taste of their own medicine,” and with loud shouts the five comrades started to gather up the snow as they chased pell-mell toward the scene of excitement.

Contents

CHAPTER II

THE MAN WHO LOVED NATURE

“Give it to them, boys!” Josh was shouting as he started to send his first ball straight at the group of busy tormentors who were showering the helpless old man with their icy balls that must have stung almost as much as so many rocks.

He seemed to be lame, for while he tried to advance toward the young rascals waving his stout cane wildly, they had no difficulty in keeping a safe distance off, and continuing the cruel bombardment.

The smashing of that ball flung by Josh, who was pitcher on the Lenox baseball team, and a fine shot, was the first intimation the three tormentors of the old man had that the tables had been turned.

“Hey! look here what’s on to us!” shrilled one of the trio, as he felt the sudden shock caused by the first snowball striking the back of his head.

Upon that the bully of the town and his two allies were forced to turn and try to defend themselves against this assault from the rear. They fought desperately for a very short time, but their hands were already half frozen, and five against three proved too great odds for their valor.

Besides, every time Josh let fly he managed to land on some part of the person of Tony Pollock or one of his cronies. And those hard balls when driven by the sturdy arm of the baseball pitcher stung mercilessly.

The old man stood and watched, with something like a smile on his face. He seemed to have forgotten all about his own recent predicament in seeing these young rowdies receiving their just dues. If he had not been old and lame possibly he might have insisted on joining