are all live wires. I want to know if you will join the Scouts. You can have a patrol of your own, select your own patrol leader and your own patrol animal."

"What's a patrol animal?" we asked.

"Patrol animal? Why, each patrol is named after some animal, and the Scouts all have to be able to imitate its call, so that they can let each other know where they are hiding."

When Mr. Norton told us that you hardly could have heard yourself think for a minute. Mrs. Norton didn't know what had broken loose and came running in from the next room. Skinny was hissing like a snake; Bill croaked like a frog; Benny cawed like a crow; Hank barked like a dog, and the other boys did something else, and nobody could tell what they were doing.

"You seem to have the right idea," smiled Mr. Norton.

There was a lot more to it, uniforms and rules and signs and all that sort of thing, but that doesn't belong in this history. It didn't take us long to decide that we would go in. Bill Wilson was the craziest one in the bunch.

Mr. Norton thought that we ought to decide on a patrol leader before we went home. We told him that there was nothing to decide.

"Skinny is captain, all right," said Benny, "and the Band is the Band, I guess, whether we are Scouts or Injuns."

"Yes, I'm captain of the Band," Skinny told him, when Mr. Norton waited to see what he had to say about it, "but I don't know about this patrol business. It wouldn't do to vote on it here, anyway. The cave is where we meet. We ought to vote in the cave, seeing it is summer time. If it was winter we could meet in Pedro's barn."

We left it that way and were so busy during the closing days of school that we didn't have time to think much more about it until Friday. When we came in from afternoon recess, there was the Sign, as big as life, drawn with chalk on the blackboard.

I saw teacher looking at it, sort of puzzled, as if she was wondering what it all was about, and some of the girls were giggling at it. They seemed to think it was a joke of some kind, instead of something important. Anyhow, the Sign said for us to meet at the cave, Saturday, at ten o'clock.

Saturday morning, long before ten, every boy was at our house, that being nearest to the cave. Each one carried a lot of good things to eat, so we should not have to go home for dinner unless we wanted to.

Besides his dinner Hank had with him a little camera, which his folks had given to him on his birthday because he promised not to make any more awful smells with chemicals in the cellar. Hank was always mixing things to see what would happen and he pretty near blew his house up at one time. He is an inventor, too, and says that when he grows up he is going to make a flying machine. He nearly made one once. He made a kite that would pull us uphill on our sleds.

One time he made a spanking machine which worked with a crank, and when teacher wanted us to lick Bill we spanked him with it. Only we laid a horse hair across the seat of his pants to see what it would do and it broke the machine. Of course, he didn't make the camera, but he had a place down cellar where he developed and printed his pictures after the camera had taken them.

"Gee, fellers," said Skinny, "Hank is goin' to take our pictures. Everybody look pleasant."

"Not on your life," Hank told him. "You'd break the machine; that's what."

We went up through Blackinton's orchard and followed the road around to the top of the hill.

In a field, a little west of the top, the same field where we chased the high-school girls, stand what we call the "twin stones." They are big ones, six feet high and maybe more. One of these we use for a fireplace. It is near Plunkett's woods, where it is always easy to find dry sticks to burn. A piece of the rock has been split off in such a way that it makes a kind of hearth, with a place between for a fire.

"Let's come back here for dinner," I said. "When we build a fire in the cave the smoke makes our eyes smart. What do you say?"

So we went into the woods and hid our lunch and some potatoes, which we had carried in our pockets to cook, but Hank wouldn't leave his camera. He said it cost too much to let it lie around in the woods. His folks paid three dollars for it.

Then we hurried on to the cave.

"Open sesame!" said Skinny, pounding the outside of the cave with a club, like the robber did in "Arabian Nights."

"Is she open?" asked Bill, who was in a hurry to get in.

Skinny didn't answer. He was peering up and down the ravine to see if anybody was looking. When he found that no one was in sight he motioned for us to go in.

"Old Long Knife will guard the pass," said he.

And he did, for when I put my head out of the cave a little later to find out why he did not come, he was fighting like sixty. He swung his club and jumped around for a minute; then gave a fearful whack and drew himself up with his arms folded, like an Injun or a bandit.

"Lie there, villain!" he hissed. "Sick semper turn us, and don't you forget it."

After that he came in with his face all red, he had been working so hard. We already had the candle lighted and were ready to begin.

"Fellers," said Skinny, when we all had sat down on the floor in front of him and I had called the roll. "I don't know whether this is the Band or the patrol, or whether we are bandits, or Injuns, or Scouts, and I don't know that it makes much difference. I am captain of the Band, but what we want to find out is, who is leader of the patrol. We could fight for it, perhaps, only I hate to muss my clothes."

Some looked at Bill, for we knew that he kind of wanted to be leader. He would make a good one, too, only it seemed to belong to Skinny.

Nobody said a thing for 'most a minute. Then Benny stood up, bumped his head against the roof of the cave, and sat down again.

"Mighty chief," said he, when we were through laughing at him, "may I speak and live?"

He never had said that before and it surprised us.

"You may," said Skinny, looking fierce and swinging his club.

"Fellers," began Benny, "Skinny was a good enough leader when we went 'sploring out in Illinois last summer and I 'most got drowned in Fox River, and he was a good enough leader when we found a tramp in this 'ere cave and smoked him out. He lassoed the robber, that time, didn't he, when the guy was stealin' Hank's pearl, and—and—lots of things? I guess that anybody who could do that is good enough to be patrol leader."

That was a long speech for Benny to make, and we all patted him on the back except Bill, who sat thinking and getting ready to say something. All of a sudden he spoke up.

"Fellers," said he, "three cheers for Skinny Miller, who is always there with the goods."

"You're out of order," Skinny told him, but nobody could hear.

I shouldn't wonder if they heard us voting clear down in the village.

We also had to have an assistant patrol leader, called a corporal, and we elected Bill Wilson. Bill is great at such things. As corporal he would be in command whenever Skinny was away. That didn't count for much, though, for Skinny is almost always around when anything is going on.

The next thing to do was to decide upon our patrol animal, like the book said.

At first we couldn't agree very well on that. Nearly every one wanted a different animal. Skinny wanted us to choose a snake because he liked the hissing part and a picture of a snake would be easy to draw on our signs.

Hank and Bill thought a dog would be best.