et and sure enough he had on scout shoes, almost
new. Talk about plots growing thicker! This one was getting so thick
you couldn't drive a nail into it.

"Well--what--are--you--doing--here?" I gasped out just like that.

"Shh," he said, "keep quiet; come in, but keep quiet."

So I went in, all flabbergasted and there was a room with the paper
all falling off the walls and no carpet On the floor, but anyway the
windows were wide open, that was one good thing. And over in the corner
was an old cot without any sheets or anything and, oh, gee, it looked
bad because I've got a dandy bed up in my den--all brass and filigree
work--you know.

But, crinkums, I didn't notice the cot much because there was a fellow
on it and as soon as I looked at him I knew who it was, even though he
looked worse than he most always did. It was Skinny McCord.

"You waked him up by knocking," Westy said

"It isn't the first knocking I did to--day," I said "but I guess I can
see how it is now--I guess I can."

"It's only a good turn," he said; "he did you a good turn, and so I had
to do one for him, that's all. It's for the scouts too, and I don't
care what they say."

Then I happened to notice a catching mitt and a baseball over on a table
near Skinny, where there was some medicine too. And then, all of a
sudden, everything seemed to glisten like, especially when I blinked
my eyes. Gee, I know how easy it is for girls to cry, but a
fellow--anyway--when I saw Westy sit down on the edge of that cot and
not pay any attention to me, only to Skinny, I couldn't speak at all.
I only just happened to think to do something and I'm glad I thought
about it. I just raised my hand and made Westy Martin the full scout
salute. Patrol leaders don't do that mostly to the fellows in their
patrols, but I should worry about rules and things like that.

"You're taking care of him?", I said as soon as I could, and I felt all
foolish sort of. "I tracked him, but I never thought"--and I just
couldn't say any more.

But even still Westy didn't speak to me, only he said to Skinny, "Here's
a real patrol leader come to see you--that's a big honor, that is, and
he just made you the full salute. You remember it in the Scout Handbook?"

"I made that salute to you," I said to Westy, all choking, I have to
admit it, "and I meant it too."

"You're a great tracker," he said; "wouldn't you like to be as good a
tracker as he is, Skinny?" And I could see that all he care