ES HIS REPORT
XXVII. DICK'S GREAT PLAN
XXVIII. THE SCOUTS MARCH FORTH
XXIX. WINNING A SUPPER
XXX. THE FIRST CAMP
XXXI. THE BIG TROUT
XXXII. TERRORS OF THE NIGHT
XXXIII. THE MARCH RESUMED
XXXIV. SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE
XXXV. A BROTHER SCOUT--THE TWO TRAMPS
XXXVI. CHECKMATE
XXXVII. AT NEWMINSTER
XXXVIII. HOMEWARD BOUND----A DISH OF EELS
XXXIX. THE STORM--WHAT HAPPENED WHILE THEY
DRIED THEIR CLOTHES
XL. THE SCOUTS' SECOND CAMP
XLI. THE POACHERS
XLII. DRAGGING THE POOL--A LITTLE SURPRISE
XLIII. THE BROKEN BICYCLE
XLIV. THE BROTHER SCOUT
XLV. AT THE HARDYS' FARM
XLVI. DICK'S ACCIDENT
XLVII. THE LAST CAMP
XLVIII. IN THE RAIN
XLIX. DIGGING A WELL
L. THE OLD HIGGLER
LI. THE WELCOME HOME

THE WOLF PATROL

CHAPTER I

THE 'SLUG'

'Now for the Quay Flat!' said Arthur Graydon. 'I say,
Dick Elliott, you cut ahead, and see if that crew out of
Skinner's Hole are anywhere about! You other fellows,
get some stones and keep 'em handy!'

A dozen day-boys from Bardon Grammar School were
going home one Saturday midday after morning school.
All of them lived in a suburb which lay beyond the
shipping quarter of the river-port of Bardon, and their
way to and from school ran across a wide open space
beside the river known as Quay Flat.

Below Quay Flat, and packed closely along the edge of
the river, was a huddle of small houses and cottages, where
lived the poorer sort of riverside workers, a squalid, dirty
region known as Skinner's Hole. It was so called because
it lay very low, and because hides from abroad were landed
there, and dealt with by three or four large tanneries.

Between the Grammar School boys who crossed Quay
Flat and the boys of Skinner's Hole there was a constant
feud. At times this bickering took the form of pitched
battles fought out with sticks and stones. The boys of
Bardon always called these encounters 'slugs,' and, if
the truth be told, they were, one and all, very fond of a
'slug.' To carefully search the hedges for a handy stick,
and then cut a ferocious knob out of the root end with
your pocket-knife; above all, to cast leaden bullets and
march forth with them and a catapult--these things
were dear to the heart of a Bardon boy.

There were now threats of another 'slug' in the air,
and the boys who had to cross Quay Flat had gathered
to march home in a