the scouts must pass around, and pick their way
down the hillside.

"That's so," added Jotham, following suit, and taking great care not to
knock his precious bugle in the least when making the shift; "for one,
I'm dead tired after such a hard afternoon. But all the same, I want
you to know that I'm in apple-pie condition for that long hike, or will
be, after a night's rest."

"What d'ye suppose made Mr. Sargeant offer a prize if the Beaver Patrol
could walk to Warwick by one road, and back along another, a distance of
just an even hundred miles, between sunrise of four days?" and Fritz
looked around at his five comrades as though inviting suggestions.

"Because he's fond of boys, I reckon," remarked Andy. "They tell me he
lost two splendid little fellows, one by drowning, and the other through
being lost in the forest; and when he learned what sort of things the
scouts practice, he said he was in favor of encouraging them to the
limit."

"Well, we want to get busy, and show Mr. Sargeant that we're going to
give him a run for his money," said Seth.

"We've all seen the cup in the window of the jewelers in town, and it
sure is a beauty, and no mistake," added Jotham.

"Don't anybody allow himself to think we can't cover that hundred miles
inside the time limit. You know how Paul keeps telling us that
confidence is more'n half the battle," Fritz went on to say.

"You pet we want dot gup, undt we're yust bound to get der same,"
observed Noodles, who could talk quite as well as any of his mates, but
who liked to pretend every now and then, that he could only express
himself in "broken English," partly because it pleased him and at the
same time amused his mates.

"We're right glad to hear you say that, Noodles," declared Seth, with a
wink in the direction of the others; "because some of us have been
afraid the hike might be too much for you, and Eben."

"Now, there you go again, Seth," complained the bugler, "always
imagining that because I seldom blow my own horn----" but he got no
further than this, for there broke out a shout, from the rest of the
boys.

"That's where you struck it right, Eben!" cried Seth, "because in the
old days you seldom did blow your own horn; but I notice that you're
improving right along now, and we have hopes of making a champion bugler
out of you yet."

"Of course that was just a slip; but let it pass," remarked Eben,
grinning in spite of the fact that the joke was on him. "What I