ere and
explained all over again how there is no social distinction between
Scouts, and how money and that sort of thing doesn't count, but I
couldn't break through his pride. I'd about given up when I had a happy
thought. 'Sparrer,' said I, 'I thought you were a dead game sport, but I
guess you've got a streak of yellow in you after all. Some of these
fellows are from fine homes and some are not, but they're white right
through, and they've got more sand than you have. They dare to take you
in on the same footing that they are on, and you haven't got the nerve
to show 'em that you are just as good as they are.'

"That got him. The long and short of it was he agreed to come around to
my house the next night and meet the bunch, and he did. The fellows were
good Scouts, all right, and treated him on the level just as if he were
one of 'em. When he saw those photos of mine and the snow-shoes and
paddles and the rest of the junk, and heard about the good times the
bunch was having, he was eager to be a Scout, but he wouldn't say that
he would join the patrol. It wasn't until about three weeks later when
he came around in full uniform and said that he would like to be a Blue
Tortoise that I tumbled to what the trouble had been. He wouldn't join
until he could at least look as well as the rest, and he'd been working
over time and saving every penny to get that uniform. I guess he was
right, at that. The fellows wouldn't have cared, but he cared, and being
dressed like the rest made him feel more as if he belonged with the
crowd."

Again Pat nodded his full understanding of the youngster's feelings.

"Sparrer took to scouting like a duck to water," Upton continued. "He
cut out tobacco and swearing, and being naturally quick from his life in
the streets he learned quickly and passed the tenderfoot and second
class tests quicker than anybody else in the patrol. He's a first class
Scout now, and a mighty good one. He is so full of life and fun that it
wasn't any time at all before he was one of the most popular fellows in
the patrol, and when he's on hand he keeps things moving. The hardest
thing he has to overcome is slang. You know he was brought up in the
streets. It's his mother tongue. I'm afraid the boys don't help him
much. They like to hear him. But he's doing his best, and now he's going
to night school. Of course I've told him all about you and the fight
you've made and I rather fancy he's made something of a model an