There was vast relief on Bobbie’s face as they came out of troop headquarters.  But Don’s face was grave.

It took but a minute to walk down the road to the fence.  Bobbie’s steps unconsciously became slower.  He edged out toward the curb.  Tim saw him and instantly became alert.

“Here, now,” he called; “don’t try to dodge past.  Come over here and—­”

“Hello, Tim,” said Don.

Tim stopped short.  His eyes darkened suspiciously, as though he suspected that Don was acting as guardian.  For a moment he seemed to be debating what he should do; and while he paused, Bobbie edged past.

“Don’t forget Monday,” said Don.  He wanted to shift the other boy’s thoughts.

“I may be busy Monday,” Tim answered scowlingly.  He took a step after Bobbie, but found the patrol leader in his way and stopped short.

Don continued on down the road.  He knew that Tim was aware why he had walked with Bobbie, and he knew that Tim resented it.  After all, what had he gained?  He couldn’t be with Bobbie always.  If Tim wanted to plague, he could catch the little scout alone almost any day.

Abruptly Don swung around and went back.  Tim, seeing him coming, set his feet farther apart.  It was a fighting pose.  Don’s heart fluttered.

“Look here, Tim,” he said; “what’s the use of stewing around this way?  Why can’t we all pull together?”

“Did I do anything to you?” Tim asked.

“No, but—­What’s the use of tormenting Bobbie?”

“Gee!  Are you the keeper of the whole patrol?”

Don bit his lips.  The talk wasn’t going at all the way he wanted.

“We’ve got to work together,” he said, “or we won’t have a chance for the cup.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” Tim said airily.  “I’ll do my share.  Didn’t I show up for practice today?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what more do you want?”

Don hesitated.  Tim began to grin.  He walked back to the fence and leaned there carelessly.

“It—­it’s going to muss the practice if you tease Bobbie,” Don said slowly.  “He’ll be edging away from you, not knowing what moment you’ll twig him, and it will spoil the work.  You can’t give him a good fireman’s lift if he’s hanging back.”

“What are you doing,” Tim demanded, “asking me to let up on him or telling me?”

“I’m asking you,” Don said slowly.

“Oh!  Well, that’s all right.”  Tim’s grin grew broader.  “I won’t bother him.”

All the way home Don was haunted by that grin.  He knew what it meant.  Tim thought he had started back to lay down the law and had wilted.  Tim thought he was afraid.

Don swallowed a lump in his throat.  There was no use in trying to disguise the truth.  Deep in his heart he didn’t know whether he was or not.

CHAPTER III

TIM STANDS BY

It was a very quiet Don who sat down to supper that night.  He had the uncomfortable conviction that he had blundered.  Having started to see Bobbie past trouble, he should have seen him past with quiet firmness.  It had been a mistake to try to bargain.