out it, please. I've read about the Boy Scouts; but my
mother would take a fit if she thought I was practicing to become a
soldier. You see, I had an older brother, who enlisted to go out with
some of the boys when we had our little fuss about Cuba and the
Philippines; and poor Frank died in camp of typhoid fever. I'll have a
hard time winning her over, and the dad, too," remarked Bobolink, sadly.

"Well, that's where you make a big mistake, Bobolink. Over in England,
where the Boy Scout movement started, it has some connection with the
army, because there, you see, every fellow expects at some time to serve
his country as a soldier, or on board a naval vessel. But here in
America, the movement is one for peace."

"Then what's all the doings about?" asked Nuthin', as if puzzled.

"I know, and Paul is right about it," came from Wallace Carberry, always
quite a reader of newspapers and magazines.

"Let him tell then. I'm for the game, no matter what it means," cried
Bobolink.

"And I think Bluff knows something about it, for he said he would do for
the lowest grade of scout, which is the tenderfoot. But I don't think any
of you are qualified to take even that degree; for a tenderfoot must
first be familiar with scout law, sign, salute, and know what his badge
means; he must know about our national flag, and the usual forms of
salute due to it; and be able to tie some seven or eight common knots.
How about that, Bluff?"

"N-n-not guilty!" promptly answered the one addressed.

"Say, that sounds interesting any way. Tell us some more about this,
Paul!" exclaimed William, always eager to hear of anything that smacked
of novelty.

"Well, there are two more degrees a fellow can climb up to, a
second-class scout, and a first-class scout, full fledged. After that, if
he wants to keep right on there are merit badges to be won for excelling
in angling, athletics, camping, cooking at the campfire, taxidermy, first
aid to the injured, handicraft, life saving, path-finding, and a lot
more."

"Now you've got me stuck on this new game," cried Bobolink, excitedly.
"The more you explain the better I like the idea. Me for the Boy Scouts,
fellows!"

"Hear! Hear! Paul, the idea is yours, and we vote unanimously that you
occupy the exalted position of scout master--I know that every troop has
to have such a head, and you're better fitted for the job than any fellow
in town!"

"Yes," laughed Paul, "but unfortunately, I believe a