g out the lay of the land."

"Well, now," remarked the boy called Davy, as he threw himself down to
stretch; "that's what our instruction book says,--a true scout always
has his eyes and ears open to see and hear everything. The more things
you can remember in a store window, after only a minute to look, the
further up you are, see?"

The boy called Thad not only wore a rather seedy and faded scout khaki
uniform; while those of all his comrades were almost brand new; but he
had several merit badges fastened on the left side of his soft shirt.

These things would indicate that Thad Brewster must have been connected
with some patrol, or troop of Boy Scouts, in the town where he formerly
lived before his father, dying, left him in charge of the queer old
bachelor uncle who was known far and wide among the boys of Scranton as
plain "Daddy Brewster"--nobody ever understood why, save that he just
loved all manner of young people.

In fact, it was a memory of the good times which he had enjoyed in the
past that influenced Thad to start the ball rolling for a troop of
scouts in Scranton. In this endeavor he had found energetic backing;
and the Silver Fox Patrol of the troop was now starting out upon its
first hike, to be gone several days.

Several of the eight boys forming this patrol were lagging more or less
along the dusty road; for the brisk walk on this summer day had tired
them considerably.

At the cheery notes of the bugle, blown by "Bumpus" Hawtree, the stray
ones in uniform quickened their pace, so as to close up. Of course the
stout youth had another name, and a very good one too, having been
christened Cornelius Jasper. But his chums had long ago almost forgotten
it, and as Bumpus he was known far and wide.

He was a good-natured chap, clumsy in his way, but always willing to
oblige, and exceedingly curious. Indeed, his mates in the patrol
declared Bumpus ought to have been born a girl, as he always wanted to
"poke his nose into anything queer that happened to attract his
attention." And this failing, of course, was going to get Bumpus into a
lot of trouble, sooner or later.

His one best quality was a genuine love for music. He could play any
sort of instrument; and had besides a wonderfully sweet high soprano
voice, which he was always ready to use for the pleasure of his friends.
That promised many a happy night around the camp-fire, when once the
Silver Fox Patrol had become fully established.

And t