who are able to make some sort of a shift with
crutches, but Will could not use them at all. As Mrs. Spencer had
explained to Glen, there had been some trouble in the amputation. All
that was needed was money to go to a famous hospital and have things
properly arranged and a pair of artificial legs fitted that would enable
him to walk, run, race, dance or play the pipe organ. Will hoped to be
successful enough to command the money for this and meantime he intended
to be happy in the prospect. So he sat and watched Glen work, made
suggestions, cracked jokes and drew diagrams of the surrounding country.

The day that Glen finished his work was very hot. He had been working
hard in the hope of completing the job by nightfall and was wet and
grimy with perspiration and dirt. As he carried an armful of stalks to
the shock he noticed a boy standing there dressed in a khaki uniform of
olive drab.

"Wouldn't you like a little help?" asked the boy.

"I could use some," said Glen. "But I have only one knife."

"You rest, then, and let me use it awhile. I know how to cut corn."

"You'll spoil your pretty suit."

"This kind doesn't spoil. It's a scout uniform."

"Perhaps it won't spoil for as long as you'll work," said Glen. "What
are you doing here?"

"We have a camp around the other side of the Mound. We only came
yesterday or you would have seen some of us before now."

He was cutting cornstalks with a practised hand and Glen decided that he
could trust him.

"You can go ahead for awhile. I'll go over and see what my partner
says," he agreed.

"There's a boy scout over there," he told Spencer. "He wanted to help
cut a piece, so I let him. Do you mind?"

"Not a bit. I'd like to get a whole troop of boy scouts to help. They
ought to be some good at our game."

"There is a troop of them camped the other side of the mound, this boy
says. Maybe we could get them to help."

Spencer straightened himself in his seat.

"Bright idea, Glen. To-night you shall push Jolly Bill and the old
billy-cart over there, and we'll give them a chance to do a good turn."

Glen went back to where the scout was working.

"That's enough," he said. "You've given me quite a rest. We're coming
over to see you to-night."

"I hope you will," the scout replied. "My father is the scout master and
I know he'll be glad to have you come. His name is Newton."

"I suppose you get along with the same name?" suggested Glen.

"I surely do. And my