aternized in the old sandpit on the heath, and Mr. Elliott attended
as umpire. The boys were far from being strangers to each other, for
they had often met before in a slugging match, but all such foolish old
feuds were laid aside, and they prepared eagerly for a friendly
struggle in this most fascinating sport of scouting.

'Now, Slynn,' said Mr. Elliott to the leader of the Ravens, 'as your
scouts are the visitors, I think you ought to have the choice of the
game at which to challenge the Wolf Patrol.'

'Well, sir,' said Chippy, 'wot about "Scout meets Scout"? I think that
'ud suit us, if it 'ud suit the Wolves.'

'Yes,' said Mr. Elliott, 'that would give you some good fun. And, as
it happens, that is a game I have been thinking over. I believe you
would enjoy it better still if you combined it with hunting. You've
all got a ball apiece, haven't you?'

Yes, everybody had a ball of some sort, and all were listening eagerly
to the instructor. Mr. Elliott drew a small parcel from his pocket,
and opened it. Inside there were sixteen little flags--eight yellow
and eight black.

'You see, I am prepared with your patrol colours,' he said. 'The truth
is, I was intending to suggest this game myself as one to be taken.
Now, let every scout fix a flag in his hat.'

The Wolves took the yellow, and the Ravens took the black, and the
flags were fixed.

'The next thing,' said Mr. Elliott, 'is full trot for the Beacon;' and
away they all went.

The Beacon was a small hill which rose sharply from the heath, and
stood quite alone. It was not very high, perhaps a hundred feet, but
from the top you could see far over the heath on every side. In old
days a beacon-fire had been lighted on it to warn or arouse the country
in times of danger; a fire had burned there when the Spanish Armada
came.

The scouts swarmed up the side, and raced each other to the top. Then
they gathered once more about the umpire.

'Now,' said Mr. Elliott, 'here's my idea of "Scout meets Scout." The
Wolves will go to that patch of burnt gorse which is about half a mile
east of the Beacon. The Ravens will go to that big oak which is about
half a mile west. Those are the boundaries, and no one must pass them.
North and south the land becomes open quite close to us, and nobody may
go out there. It isn't likely he would wish to, for he would be seen
at once. When I blow my whistle, the two sides will begin to work
towards each other, and the