second patrol in the fall, wanted to go along
with us; but Mr. Sargeant preferred to limit it to just the Beavers. He
said we were seasoned scouts by this time, while the other fellows might
be called tenderfeet; and it would be a pity to run chances of losing
the prize, just because one of them softies fell down."

Fritz offered this explanation, and somehow at mention of Steve
Slimmons' name a slight smile could be seen flitting across more than
one face. For well did the scouts remember when this same boy had been
accounted one of the toughest lads in all Milltown, as that part of
Beverly across the railroad tracks was called.

At that time he had been called "Slick" Slimmons, and in many ways he
deserved the name, for he was a smooth customer. But circumstances had
arisen, as told in a previous volume of this series, whereby Steve had
gone through a rather serious experience, and had his eyes opened to the
fact that in leading such a wild life he was carrying the heavy end of
the log.

He had broken with the tough crowd of which he had been a member up to
then, and now was hand in glove with Paul Prentice and his scouts, in
fact considered himself a member of Beverly Troop.

The active lads found little trouble in negotiating the descent leading
down to level ground. Even Noodles had become many times more agile than
before he donned the magical khaki of the scouts; for the various duties
that had to be performed from time to time by every member of the patrol
had done wonders for the slow moving German-American boy.

With their goal now in sight, the six scouts started off at a lively
pace. If any of them felt in the least bit tired he was evidently
determined not to show it to his comrades, or any one they might happen
to meet on the road leading to Beverly. Pride is a great thing at
certain times, and helps ride over many difficulties.

So, in due time they separated, each fellow heading toward his own home.
And the last words they called back to each other were in connection
with the great hike upon which they expected to start on the following
morning, which would be Tuesday.

Many anxious looks were cast upward toward the blinking stars that
night, and speculations indulged in as to the probable kind of weather
that would be doled out to them while on the road.

And more than one scout lay awake long after he went to bed, trying to
lift the curtain that hid the future, just a little way, so as to get a