us what to do; and he's coming back to-morrow and the next day
you'll be back, maybe. He said that if the major fussed you'd better do
what's wanted."

"But look here--!" began Fitz. "The major'll feel worse if he knows
you're missing your trip than if the message is delayed a day or two."

"No, he won't," argued Van. "We'll explain to him. We won't miss our
trip. We'll catch the crowd somewhere. Besides, that's only pleasure.
This other is business. You're on the trail, in real Scouts' service, to
show what Scouts can do, so we want to help."

It seemed to me that they were showing what Scouts can do, too! They
were splendid, those Red Foxes.

"The major'll just fuss and fret, you know," finished Van. "That's what
has sent his temperature up, already."

"Well," said Fitz, slowly, "we'll see. We Elks appreciate how you other
Scouts have stuck and helped. Don't we, Jim?"

"We sure do," I agreed. "But we don't want to ride a free horse to
death."

"Bosh!" laughed Van. "We're all Scouts. That's enough."

Red Fox Scout Ward beckoned to us.

"The major wants you," he said.

We went in. The major did not look good to me. His cheeks were getting
flushed and his eyes were large and rabbity.

"I can't quiet him," claimed Ward, low, as we entered.

"Do you know this is the fourteenth day?" piped the major. "I've been
counting up and it is. I'm sure it is."

"That's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "You let us do the counting.
All you need do is get well."

"But we have to put that message through, don't we?" answered the major.
"Just because I'm laid up is no reason why the rest of you must be laid
up, too. Darn it! Can't you do something?"

He was excited. That was bad.

"I've been thinking," proceeded the major. "The general was hurt, and
dropped out, but we others went on. Then little Jed Smith was hurt, and
he and Kit Carson dropped out, but we others went on. And now I'm hurt,
and I've dropped out, and none of you others will go on. That seems
mighty mean. I don't see why you're trying to make me responsible.
Everybody'll blame me."

"Of course they won't," I said.

He was wriggling his feet and moving his arms, and he was almost crying.

"Would you get well quick if we leave you and take the message through,
Tom?" asked Fitz, suddenly.

The major quit wriggling, and his face shone.

"Would I? I'd beat the record. I'd sleep all I'm told to, and eat soup,
and never peep. Will you, Fitz? Sure?"