Barbara came in from the kitchen to set the table.  “Hungry?” she asked. 
Then, after a moment:  “Isn’t Tim your catcher on the town team?”

Don nodded.

Barbara put her head close to his.  “Scouting isn’t all fun, is it?”

“It wouldn’t be worth shucks if it was,” Don said stoutly.  And yet, as he walked toward troop headquarters after supper, his steps were slow.

The command “Attention,” came from Mr. Wall’s lips as he entered the meeting place.  He hurriedly joined his patrol.  The color guard and the troop bugler stepped to the front, and the brassy notes of “To the Colors” rose and fell.  Standing stiffly at salute, the troop pledged allegiance to the flag, and repeated the scout oath.  The bugler stepped back to the ranks.

Slowly Mr. Wall made his tour of inspection.  When it was finished, the scouts waited breathlessly.  For the first time Don noticed a small blackboard nailed against the wall: 

PATROL POINTS

Eagle
Fox
Wolf

“The Eagle patrol,” Mr. Wall said, “has one scout absent and two scouts untidy—­thirteen points.”

The Scout Scribe wrote the points upon the board.

“The Fox patrol, all scouts present and two scouts-untidy—­fourteen points.  The Wolf patrol a perfect score—­sixteen points.”

Silence in the patrols.

“Break ranks,” the Scoutmaster ordered.

Instantly there was a babel of excited talk.  Scouts who had cost their patrols points through untidiness were upbraided by their comrades.  Andy caught Don’s arm.

“We’re off in the lead,” he chuckled.

“It’s staying in the lead that counts,” said Don.

The shrill of Mr. Wall’s whistle brought the scouts to attention again.

“Tonight we take up the theory of building a bridge with staves and cords,” the Scoutmaster said.  “The Fox patrol was to have provided two logs.”

The Fox patrol hustled outdoors and returned in a moment with their burden.

The scouts set to work to build a bridge from one log to the other.  Mr. Wall walked about, watching but offering no advice.  After an hour the bridge was completed.

“Scouts Lally and Davidson,” said Mr. Wall, “see if it will hold you.”

Tim and Alex stepped out on the structure.  It held.  A cheer started and died.  For the bridge was sagging.  Abruptly it gave.

“Ten minutes for examination to see where the fault lies.”  The Scoutmaster took out his watch.  “Next meeting we’ll try again.”

Ten minutes later the lashings were untied, the staves were back in their wall racks, and the logs were outdoors.  Each scout was sure he knew just what was wrong with that bridge and no two scouts agreed.

“Squat!” came the next order.

There was a rush for camp stools piled in a corner.  Still grouped by patrols, the scouts faced Mr. Wall.