ell him Mr. Spencer wants his eggs sure fresh and likes 'em soft."

"You can just carry Mr. Spencer's order to Black Bob yourself," said
Matt disgustedly. "I'm no waiter."

"You won't be if the scout master hears you," said Apple, his good
nature exhausted. "You'll be a traveler."

"He surely will," observed Chick-chick. "I'll take care of Mr. Spencer,
Apple. Leave him to me."

"It's more in your line," insinuated Matt. "I guess it's about the same
thing as waiting on your father's customers at his garage."

"An' it's proud I am to do it," retorted Chick-chick. "I do it whenever
they want anything I can handle, from gasoline to a new machine. Lem'me
sell you a new car, Matty. Lem'me sell you one that'll make your blue
blood bubble all over itself. Tell ye 'bout it jest as soon as I get
those eggs."

"We've just bought a new car," said Matt. "And I'd walk before I'd let
my folks buy one of you, anyway."

"I don't believe that fellow likes you," observed Glen, as he went up to
the cook shack with Chick-chick.

"He surely don't disgrace himself by too much show of affection," agreed
Chick-chick. "You musn't think it's because it's me, though. There's
on'y one person Matty really loves. He's real smart, Matty is. You
noticed he spoke so the men couldn't hear him."

Black Bob had Mr. Spencer's eggs all ready.

"These is for the ge'mman as told the stories last night," he announced.
"He sure is quality, if they ain't much to him."

"Give 'em to me, Bob," said Chick-chick. "I'm going to wait on Mr.
Spencer."

"You go away, you Henry Chicken," objected Black Bob. "I know all 'bout
yore tricks. Bear Patrol is waitin' table dis yere mohnin' an' you
ain't no Bear Patrol."

"Well, here's Goosey," exclaimed Chick-chick, grabbing the shoulder of a
small scout who had just appeared. "Goosey is in Bear Patrol, and he's a
friend of mine, ain't you, Goosey?"

"I surely am," declared the small scout. "Anything I can do for
Chick-chick I do."

"Hustle these eggs down to Mr. Spencer, Goosey, an' make it your
business to wait on him. Bob won't give me a thing."

"Not when you ain't on duty. Oh, I know you, Mr. Henry-chick," Bob
affirmed.

"Bob doesn't seem to trust you," said Glen. "Aren't you friendly?"

"Just best friends ever. Bob hasn't better friend 'n me in camp. I like
Bob 'n I love his cakes an' pies. 'Tain't my fault if he doesn't always
seem to reciprocate, is it, Bob?"

"What dat 'bout recipe fo cake? Nev'