ions about where we intended to make our first camp-fire. It
wouldn't surprise me much if they did try to give us trouble."

"What will we do if it happens that way?" asked Allan.

"Defend ourselves, to be sure," replied the scout-master, promptly, as
he gave a weed a snap with his staff that cut its top off neatly.

"But scouts are not supposed to fight; that is one of the principles of
the organization," Allan remarked.

"In a way you're right," replied the other, slowly; "that is, no true
scout will ever seek a fight; but there may be times when he has to
enter into one in order to defend himself, or save a comrade from being
badly hurt. You know the twelve rules we all subscribed to when we
joined the Silver Fox Patrol, Allan? Suppose you run them over right
now?"

"Oh! that's easy," laughed the second in command. "A scout must be
trustworthy, loyal, helpful to others, friendly, courteous, kind,
obedient to his superiors, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and
reverent."

"Well, in order to be brave, and helpful to others, he may even have to
fight; but he is expected only to resort to such extreme measures when
every other means fail. And if those three roughs come playing their
jokes around our camp we'll try and speak decently with them first.
Then, if that doesn't work, they'd better look out."

The way Thad snapped his teeth shut when saying those last few words
told what he would be apt to do if forced into the last ditch by
circumstances over which he had no control.

"I hope we can coax Giraffe to quit trying to make fires all the time,"
said Allan. "It's a dangerous thing to do in the woods. Why, up in Maine
every hunter has to employ a licensed guide just to make sure he doesn't
leave a camp-fire burning behind him when he breaks camp, which the
rising wind would scatter into the brush, so that valuable timber would
be burned, and heaps of damage done. I've stood my turn as a fire guard
myself in the Fall, and was hired by the State too."

"Listen, would you?" said Thad, just then; "what do you suppose is the
matter between Bumpus and Step-hen now? The chances are he's gone and
lost something again and is accusing poor old Bumpus of taking it. Let's
wait for them here, and settle the trouble."

The two in question brought up the van of the trailing patrol. As they
came along Step-hen was venting his disgust as usual over the "mighty
queer way" _his_ things had of vanishing without anybody ever touc