in the fray, and adding to the punishment being meted out to the three cowardly boys.

Once a retreat was begun, it quickly merged into a regular panic. Tom stayed to talk to the old man while his comrades pursued the fleeing trio, and peppered them good and hard. When finally they felt that they had amply vindicated their right to be reckoned worthy candidates for scout membership they came back, laughing heartily among themselves, to where Tom and the old man were standing.

“Why, I’ve seen that old fellow before,” Josh remarked in a low tone as he and Carl, George and Felix drew near. “His name is Larry Henderson, and they say he’s something of a hermit, living away up in the woods beyond Bear Mountain.”

“Sure thing,” added Felix, instantly; “I’ve heard my folks talking about him lots of times. He does a little trapping, they say, but spends most of his time studying animated nature. He knows every animal that ever lived on this continent, and the birds and insects too, I reckon. He’s as smart as they make ’em, and used to be a college professor some people say, even if he does talk a little rough now.”

For some reason all of them were feeling more or less interest in the man who walked with a cane. Perhaps this arose from the fact that of late they had become enthusiastic over everything connected with woodcraft. And the fact that Mr. Henderson was acquainted with a thousand secrets about the interesting things to be discovered in the Great Outdoors appealed strongly to them.

“These are my chums, Mr. Henderson,” said Tom, when the others came up; and as the name of each one was mentioned the hermit of Bear Mountain grasped his hand, giving a squeeze that made some of the boys wince.

“I’m glad to meet you all,” he said, heartily. “It was worth being attacked by that lot of rowdies just to get acquainted with such a fine lot of boys. And I want to say that you gave them all the punishment they deserved. I counted hits until I lost all track of the number.”

“Yes,” said Felix, with a grin on his freckled face; “they’re rubbing many a sore spot right now, I reckon. Josh here, who’s our star pitcher on the nine, never wasted a single ball. And I could hear the same fairly whistle through the air.”

“Gosh all hemlock! Felix,” objected the boy mentioned, “you’re stretching things pretty wide, aren’t you? Now I guess the rest of you did your share in the good work, just as much as I.”

“All the same I’m thankful for your coming to my assistance,” said Mr. Henderson. “My rheumatism kept me from being as spry in dodging their cannonade as I might have been some years ago. And one ball that broke against that tree had a stone inside it, I’m sorry to say. We would have called that unsportsmanlike in my young days.”

“Only the meanest kind of a fellow would descend to such a trick!” exclaimed the indignant Josh; “but then Tony Pollock and his crowd are ready to do anything low-down and crooked. They’ll never be able to join our scout troop, after we get it started.”

“What’s that you are saying?” asked the old man, showing sudden interest.

“Why, you see, sir,” explained Josh, always ready to do his share of talking if given half a chance, “our chum here, Tom Chesney, was visiting his cousins over in Freeport, and got interested in their scout troop. So we’ve taken the thing up, and expect to start the ball rolling right away.”

“It happens,” Tom went on, “that there is a young man in town who once served as scout master in a troop, and I’ve just had him promise to come around to-night and tell us what we’ve got to do to get the necessary charter from scout headquarters.”

“You interest me very much, boys,” said Mr. Henderson, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. “I have read considerable about the wonderful progress this new movement is making all over the land; and I want to say that I like the principles it advocates. Boys have known too little in the past of how to take care of themselves at all times, and also be ready to lend a helping hand to others.”

“The camping out, and finding all sorts of queer things in the woods is what makes me want to join a troop!” said Josh; “because I always did love to fish and hunt, and get off in the mountains away from everybody.”

“That’s a good foundation to start on,” remarked the hermit, with kindling eyes, as he looked from one eager face to another; “but I imagine that after you’ve been a scout for a short time your ideas will begin to change considerably.”

“How, sir?” asked Josh, looking unconvinced.

“Well,” continued the old man, softly, “you’ll find such enjoyment in observing the habits of all the little woods folks that by degrees the fierce desire you have now to slay them will grow colder. In the end most of you will consider it ten times better to sit and watch them at their labors or play than to slaughter them in sport, or even to kill them for food.”

“But Mr. Henderson,” said Josh, boldly, “I’ve heard that you trap animals for their pelts; and I guess you must knock a few over when you feel like having game for dinner, don’t you?”

“Occasionally I go out and get a rabbit or a partridge, though not often,” admitted the old man; “and as for my trapping, I only try to take such animals or vermin as are cruel in their nature and seem to be a pest to the innocent things I’m so fond of having around me. I wish you boys could visit my cabin some time or other, and make the acquaintance of my innumerable pets. They look on me as their best friend, and I would never dream of raising a hand to injure them. Kindness to animals, I believe, is one of the cardinal principles of a true scout.”

“Yes, sir, that’s what it is,” responded Josh, eagerly. “I’ve got the whole twelve points of scout law on the tip of my tongue right now. Here’s what they are: A scout has got to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent.”

“Whew! that’s going some!” declared Felix, who being prone to put things off to a more convenient season could readily see that he was sure to run up against a good many snags if he tried to keep the scout law.

“Then you can easily understand,” continued Mr. Henderson, “what a treasure-house the woods is going to be to every observing boy who spends some time there, and becomes interested in seeing all that is going on around him.”

“I’m sure of that, sir,” responded Tom, earnestly. “I know for one that I’ve never paid a quarter of the attention to such things as I ought to have done.”

“No, you are right there, my lad,” the hermit continued, being evidently on a favorite subject, “the average boy can walk through a mile of forest and hardly notice anything around him. In fact, he may even decide that it’s only a gloomy place, and outside the cawing of the crows or perhaps an occasional squirrel at which he shies a stone he has heard and seen nothing.”

“Then it’s different with a scout, is it, sir?” asked George Cooper.

“If he has been aroused to take a keen interest in nature the same woods will be alive with interesting things,” the other told them. “He will see the shy little denizens peeping curiously out at him from a cover of leaves, and hear their low excited chattering as they tell each other what they think of him. Every tree and moss-covered stone and swinging wild grape-vine will tell a story; and afterwards that boy is going to wonder how he ever could have been