ill isn't a hill
exactly, it's a ridge. It runs along the same way the river runs. The
state road runs along that ridge and our house is on the state road only
it's way back from the road. We've got a dandy grapevine. We've got a
sun parlor, too. That's where Mr. Blakeley's son sits and reads on rainy
days. That's why we call it a sun parlor.

Now if you sit on our porch you can look down over Bridgeboro; you get a
peach of a view. Beyond Bridgeboro you can see the river. That's where
the town ends--at the river. There are a lot of turtles in that river.
Across the river the land is low until you come to the other ridge. Now
the space between the two ridges is the valley of the river. Correct, be
seated.

In that low land between the river and the other ridge is Little Valley;
that's a village. It's where Harry Donnelle lives. He's got a Cadillac,
that fellow has. Lots of times he treats us to soda, but he won't be a
scoutmaster. Oh, boy, but he'd make a dandy one. Little Valley isn't
very big; it hasn't got its eyes open yet.

When you get past Little Valley there's a kind of a small hill and then
you come to the ridge. Up on top of the ridge is that big tree that
Westy was squinting at. There are a lot of other trees up there but that
one is bigger than any of them. Anywhere between my house and that other
ridge you can see that tree. Down in Bridgeboro maybe there are places
where you can't see it on account of buildings, but most always you can
see it. If you could have a string from my porch to that tree, the
string would be right over Bridgeboro and the river and Little Valley
and that other small hill. So now you know just how it is. From my porch
to that tree is about seven miles as the crow flies, and believe me the
crows have it easy compared to the boy scouts.

So now our troubles begin. If you want to follow us, all right, it's up
to you. I should worry. We have troubles of our own.

The next morning we started from my porch. We reminded ourselves of the
Pilgrims and Christopher Columbus and a lot of other people you meet in
school. Our young hero, P. Harris, was all decorated up like a band
wagon, belt-axe, badges, compass, cooking set, a big coil of rope and
the horn part of a phonograph. He had that hanging over his back like a
soldier's pack. The only thing he forgot to bring was the player piano
from his house.

"What's that phonograph horn for?" Westy asked him.

"It's to use as a megaphone," h