to recently; but having
become lost in the big timber recently, he had acquitted himself so
splendidly, as recorded in the preceding volume, that his mates now
regarded him as one who had been keeping his light under a bushel.

Then there was Bob White, otherwise Robert White Quail, a Southern
boy, warm of heart, a faithful friend, and upon whom the leader could
always depend in emergencies; Step Hen Bingham, whose real name of
course was Stephen, but upon appearing at school for the first time he
had insisted that it was pronounced as though made up of two
syllables; Davy Jones, an athletic lad; Giraffe, really Conrad,
Stedman, but given the significant nick-name because of a habit he had
of stretching an exceedingly long neck most outrageously; and last but
far from least, a dudish looking boy who at home answered when they
called him Edmund Maurice Travers Smith; but among his playmates he
was known simply as "Smithy."

These Boy Scouts had seen some pretty lively times during the past
year or so, down in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, where
they visited the former home of Bob White, and found themselves mixed
up with the moonshiners of that wild, inhospitable region; and later
on up in Maine, where they had gone partly on business for Thad's
adopted father and guardian, and to enjoy an outing, with a little
hunting thrown in.

It happened that here among the pine woods of Maine, they were
instrumental in recovering some valuable bonds and other papers that
had been stolen from a bank, and for which a large reward had been
offered. With this money in the treasury of the troop, they were able
to lay out a great trip to the Rocky Mountain region for the following
summer. As the money really belonged to the eight lads individually,
they felt justified in using it in this manner; for the second patrol
had only been formed after the Cranford boys learned what glorious
times the Silver Foxes were having right along.

One guide who had been hired had gone off with a party of big-horn
hunters, who lured him with better pay, and the other had been taken
down sick; so it came that the boys actually started toward the
mountains without a convoy, their tents and camp-duffle being loaded on
a couple of comical pack mules known as Mike and Molly, which animals
afforded more or less amusement and excitement from time to time.

They had heard of Toby Smathers, and only good words. In coming to
this particular reg