“You fellows bring that treasure out,” Andy threatened, “or you’ll wish you had stayed there.  Hear me?”

Tim’s eyes were unusually bright, but his heart had begun to drop to normal.  A sudden decision had come not to let this prospect run away with him.  He knew the bitter taste of disappointment and he wanted no more of it.  He had started for Lonesome Woods in high spirits the last time, and had come home in the dumps.  There’d be an understanding before this start.  There’d be an understanding tonight.

He stuck close to Don, waiting for the moment when they could be alone.  It came.

“Look here,” he said sharply; “why did you pick me?”

Don was startled.  “Why—­why—­” How could he tell the real reason without setting a new spark to the gunpowder in Tim’s nature.  “I thought you were the fellow to go,” he ended.

It sounded lame even to Don.  It sounded like an evasion to Tim.  Why couldn’t he be told the truth?  What was there that had to be hidden?

He went back to the patrol.  The thrill had begun to weaken.  He tried desperately to call it back.  He wasn’t going to be cheated out of a good time.  By and by, through dint of striving, he roused a new spirit of anticipation.

Don walked with him as the scouts crowded toward the door.  “Better come around tomorrow, Tim, and talk over what we’ll take,” he said, and wondered if Tim would offer any objection.

“Right-o!” said Tim almost cheerily.  Outside Don mopped his face.  When he expected Tim to be all right, Tim was nasty; when he expected him to be surly, he was all right.

“Well,” he said in relief, “it didn’t last long that time, anyway.”

But Tim wasn’t over it.  A new thought had caused him to change tactics.  What was the use of his spoiling his own fun?  He’d get his good time regardless of what Don had up his sleeve.  He’d throw himself into this treasure hunt heart and soul.  He’d work as hard as any scout could work.  But once they were in Lonesome Woods he’d do what he thought was best.  If Don tried to interfere with him there’d be trouble.

Next day he found the whole patrol, with the exception of Alex, at Don’s yard.  Ritter called him a lucky stiff, and Wally looked at him with envy.  They made him feel, for the first time, that he was one of the “big” scouts.

There wasn’t going to be much cooking stuff taken along.  A little coffee and a little bacon—­nothing else.  Perhaps they would not have time to cook even that much.  If they reached the treasure place and found the treasure gone, they would have to try to overtake the finders before they got out.  That would mean hustle.

They decided on pilot biscuit and the always dependable beans.  A blanket each and a poncho, a watch and a compass.  Tim was for leaving the poncho out and taking a chance on rain, but Don said no.

“Ax,” said Tim.  “We’ll need that, anyway.  I’ll go home and put an edge on mine.”