happened to be keeping company with
Davy Jones just ahead of the two leaders of the patrol. "Hey! hurry your
stumps, fellers, and get there before poor Giraffe is pulled under.
Ain't it lucky he c'n stretch his neck so far? Anyhow he ought to keep
his head above water."

Everybody was on the run by now, and as Bumpus kept sounding the
assembly on his silver-plated bugle, what with the shouts of the
advancing khaki-clad boys, the picture was an inspiring one.

When they reached the border of the little stream that crossed the
mountain road, sure enough, there was the tall scout up above his knees
in the water, and looking rather forlorn.

"What had I ought to do, Allan?" he bawled out, naturally appealing to
the one whose practical experience was apt to be of more benefit to him
at such a time than all the theories ever advanced. "You see, I was
crossing here, and stopped right in the middle to turn around and say
somethin' to Bumpus. Then I found that both my feet seemed like they was
glued down. When I tried to lift one, the other only sank down deeper.
And it came to me like a flash that I was gripped in quicksand. When I
told Bumpus here he squawked, and blew his horn to beat the band."

"Horn!" echoed Bumpus, indignantly; "why can't you ever learn to say
bugle. You're the only one I know of that owns to a horn; and you blow
that often enough, I'll be bound."

"Ain't you goin' to get me out?" demanded the now alarmed Giraffe, as he
felt himself slowly but surely sinking deeper. "Say, is that the way to
treat a fellow you all have known so long? I ain't foolin', let me tell
you. And if you stand there much longer, grinnin' at me, it'll be too
late! You'll feel sorry when you only see the top of my head above
water. I tell you there ain't no bottom to this crick. It goes clean
through to China, it does, now. Give us a hand, Allan, Thad. One scout
ought to help another, you know; and I bet some of you haven't done a
single good deed to-day, to let you turn your badge right-side up."

Among Boy Scouts it is considered the proper thing to invert the badge
every morning, and not change its position until the owner has something
worth while to his credit, even though it may only be the helping of an
old man across the busy street; or the carrying of a basket for a lame
woman coming from market. This was what Giraffe evidently had in mind,
when trying to spur his comrades on to helping him out of the mire into
which h