f Step Hen, for he knew what was apt to happen if once the other
overstepped the bounds, and muddled himself up; as like as not he
would get his signals mixed, and after that be utterly unable to send
coherently.

"Be with you by morning--we think they suspect Aleck there--you know
what to do."

"Yes. Good for you. Anymore?"

Step Hen sighed with relief. The great burden of responsibility had
fallen from his shoulders on to those broad ones of the scoutmaster.
Yes, Thad would surely know what to do--he always did when the
emergency arose. And that was what made his chums feel such implicit
confidence in their leader.

And Step Hen thought that while he was about it, and the message
business working so very smoothly, he might as well let Thad know of
their success; so he managed to say:

"We got two sheep!"

"Good again."

"Smithy shot one--I got other--had warm time I tell you. Anything new
at the camp?"

"Sure. They came and paid us a visit," Thad replied, slowly, so that
not a word did Step Hen lose as he spelled the message out.

"Do you mean Kracker?" he demanded.

"Yes. He tried to ride over us rough-shod; but we took him down a peg.
Sent the three men away--kept their guns--looking out for them all the
time--if you happen to meet hold them off--Toby will know."

That was an extra long one to take, and several times Step Hen had to
wave his torch so as to interrupt the sender, and have him go back to
the last period to repeat what he had to communicate. For of course
Step Hen, like all new beginners in wigwag work, telegraphy, and
kindred things, was a better hand at sending than receiving; because
in the one case he knew in his own mind what was coming next, and was
not apt to get confused; while in taking a message, if he lost one
small fraction of the same, while his mind was grappling with that,
he failed to catch the next letter, and thus was apt to become
hopelessly entangled.

But thanks to the intelligent manner in which Thad managed his end of
the air wire, and the positive way in which he moved his fire pencil,
the message was finally all grasped, though Step Hen was rapidly
becoming exhausted by his efforts, and the mental strain that bore on
him so heavily.

"Better quit thar!" advised the guide, who kept a close watch on things,
and was able to understand just what the tired boy was enduring.

"Pretty soon, Toby," replied Step Hen, slowly. "I've done better than
I ever thought I wou