scout master has to
be over twenty-one years of age."

"Who knows the ways of the open like our Paul? He's the right man in the
right place. Say, are there any books on the subject, that we can get,
and learn more about this thing?" asked Wallace, who seemed to be
particularly well pleased.

"I've already sent for a manual, and expect it by to-morrow; when we can
find out all about it. But wishing to be posted when I put the question I
went over the river to Aldine to-day, and saw some of the boys there who
belong to the Scouts. They made me more anxious than ever to start a
patrol in our home town."

"But I've seen something about a troop?" remarked Jack Stormways, who,
Paul thought, seemed unusually sober for a boy ordinarily light-hearted.

"Yes, a troop takes in say, three local posts called patrols, each of
which has eight members. It is known by a number, as Troop One of Boston;
and each minor organization takes a name of some animal, such as wildcat
or fox. If it is called Fox, every boy belonging to it is supposed to be
able to bark like a fox, so as to be able to signal a comrade while
scouting in the woods."

"Ginger! but that does sound interesting," declared William.

"It's j-j-just immense, that's w-w-what!" was Bluff's opinion.

"Listen! I heard a laugh as sure as anything!" exclaimed Paul, lifting a
hand to indicate silence; and every one of the group assumed an attitude
of expectancy.

As they waited there suddenly came a tremendous crash, as some object
landed forcibly against the wooden side of the old barn. It was instantly
followed by a second bang, and others came quick and fast, until the
noise might be likened to a bombardment from a hostile battery.

"It's the Slavin crowd!" called Bobolink, excitedly jumping to his feet.
"They followed us here after all, and have been listening to every word!"

"All hands to repel boarders!" shouted Paul; and with a cheer the
seven boys rushed over to the door, out of which they sprang, bent
on retaliating on their tormentors.

CHAPTER II

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A BOY SCOUT

"Where are the stone throwers?" shouted the merry member of the Carberry
Twins, as he danced up and down, eagerly trying to discover some moving
object in the surrounding darkness.

"Gone like smoke, I guess," laughed Paul, who had really expected
something of this sort, judging from past experiences with these same
tormentors.

"Look there, I can see something moving