GEORGE A. WARREN.

THE BANNER BOY SCOUTS ON A TOUR

CHAPTER I

THE OPEN DOOR

"Here we are at your father's feed store, Joe!"

"Yes, but there isn't a glimmer of a light. Didn't you say he was going
to stay here till you came from the meeting?"

"Shucks! he just got tired waiting, and went home long ago; you can trot
along now by your lonesome, Joe."

"Listen! didn't you hear it, fellows? What was that sound?"

The four boys stood, as Joe asked this question, almost holding their
breath with awe, while no doubt their hearts pounded away like so many
trip-hammers.

It was after ten o'clock at night, and the town of Stanhope, nestling on
the bank of the Bushkill, usually closed its business doors by nine,
save on Saturdays.

This being the case, it was naturally very quiet on Anderson street,
even though electric lights and people abounded on Broad street, the
main thoroughfare, just around the corner.

These lads belonged to a troop of Boy Scouts that had been organized the
preceding summer. They wore the regular khaki suits that always
distinguish members of the far-reaching organization, and one of them
even carried a bugle at his side.

The first speaker was Paul Morrison, the scout leader, to whom much of
the labor of getting the troop started had fallen. Paul was the son of
the leading doctor in Stanhope.

His comrades were the bugler, known as Bobolink, because he chanced to
answer to the name of Robert Oliver Link; Jack Stormways, Paul's
particular chum; and Joe Clausin, the one who had asked his friends to
stroll around in his company, to the feed store, where he expected to
find his father waiting for him.

The lads had been attending a regular weekly meeting of the troop at one
of the churches that offered them the free use of a gymnasium.

"There's no light inside," said Bobolink, in a husky voice, "but the
door's half open, boys!"

This announcement sent another thrill through the group.

Anyone unacquainted with the wearers of the Scout uniforms might even
imagine that they had been attacked by a spasm of fear; but at least two
members of the group had within recent times proven their valor in a
fashion that the people of Stanhope would never forget.

In the preceding volume of this series, issued under the name of "The
Banner Boy Scouts; or, The Struggle for Leadership," I related how the
boys got together and organized their patrol and troop. Of course, there
was considera