e fell over the group. The scout from the Eagle patrol took off his
hat and fanned his face.

"Mr. Wall won't think we sneaked off just because he was away," he said
uneasily.

"Why shouldn't he think it?" cried Don. One of the party was weakening,
anyway. He pressed his advantage. "You fellows know what he said on the
last hike--that Danger Mountain was a bad place. And the moment he leaves
town, a bunch of scouts start for the mountain. How does that look?"

It looked distinctly bad. Tim's carelessness vanished.

"Well," he demanded of Ritter angrily, "what are you looking at me for?
_I_ didn't know he had gone to the city."

The hikers were demoralized and leaderless. The right word now--

"Fellows," said Don, "let us show Mr. Wall that he can leave the village
as often as he pleases and not have to worry about a single scout of
Chester troop."

Ritter took a step toward him. But the others were still just a bit
uncertain.

Don almost held his breath. There was nothing more for him to say. He ran
a nervous hand into the pocket of his sweater. His fingers closed on some
cord, and something round and hard. Bobbie's whistle!

He put it to his lips and blew a long, shrill blast.

It was the voice of authority--the scout signal for attention.
Instinctively the boys straightened and looked alive.

"We're going home," said Don. "We're going to show that a scout is
trustworthy. Forward!"

An air of suspense seemed to come down over them there in the road. Don's
pulse throbbed. Would they obey?

"March!" he ordered. The die was cast.

Three of the boys swung forward. Tim stood with his feet spread apart,
frowning and glum. Presently, when the others had gone several hundred
yards, he hunched his shoulders sheepishly and slowly followed after.

CHAPTER VI

SPROUTING SEEDS

Don had pitched a full game that day. He was tired. Yet, as he slowly
rode the bicycle, he scarcely felt the weary complaint of his muscles.

A great peace lay over the road. The air was soft with summer's glory.
Faces that had been turned toward Danger Mountain were now turned toward
Chester, and that made all the difference in the world.

At first the journey back was something like a funeral. Tim shuffled
along in the rear. Ritter and the two other scouts had nothing to say.
Then by degrees the tension wore off. Tim still clung to the rear, but
the others began to laugh and to talk.

Half way back to town they saw a man in