“I’ll fill them,” said Don, and scrambled down the bank.  A stone slipped under his foot; he fell, cried out sharply, and rolled to the bottom.

When Tim reached him he was sitting up and unlacing one shoe.  It did not take them long to know the truth.  The ankle was sprained.

Tim dipped his scarf in the water and wrapped it around the hurt.  Of course, it might be a slight sprain, or it might be severe.  Don kept staring at the foot and frowning.  Tim, whistling softly under his breath, changed the compress twice.

“It hasn’t swollen much,” said Don.  “Maybe I could walk on it.”

“Here,” said Tim; “lean on my arm.”

Don hobbled.  The pain was slight.  He could walk on the foot if he favored it carefully, but speed was out of the question.  He let go of the supporting arm and sank to the ground.

He was a hindrance—­just so much dead weight.  Sooner or later the pursuing scouts would find that they were on a false scent, and would begin to scour the woods.  Mr. Wall had said that the treasure had to be brought out safely, but he did not say that two scouts had to bring it out.

Don bent over the ankle.  “You’d better make a run for it, Tim.”

“What’s that?” Tim’s eyes opened wide.  “How about you?”

“Bring the fellows back for me after you get out.  Hurry.”

But instead of hurrying, Tim stood still.  “Nothing doing,” he said.  “You’d stick to me if I were in a fix.  I’d be a fine scout to run away, wouldn’t I?”

Don bent lower over the ankle.  Once Tim would have gone off promptly and have taken glory out of individual achievement.  Now he stuck.  Oh, but scouting was a great game when fellows played it right!

CHAPTER XI

CLOSE QUARTERS

After a while they bandaged the ankle tightly with wet cloths.  Don put on his shoe but did not lace it.  He tried to climb the ravine bank, but that was a bit too rough.  Tim picked him up with a fireman’s lift and surged with him to the top.

That experience set Tim to shaking his head.  He could carry the patrol leader easily enough on the level, but climbing was a vastly harder job.

“Wait here,” he said.  “I’ll see how the ground looks ahead.”  In ten minutes he was back.  “Two or three ravines.  You couldn’t make them on that foot.  We’ll strike north and follow the brook.”

Don puckered his eyes.  “If the Eagles and Foxes get scouting around that will throw us right into them.”

“All right,” said Tim.  “Maybe we’ll capture some Eagles and Foxes along with the cup.”  He wasn’t going to get scared until there was something to be scared of.

At first Don limped along with one hand on Tim’s shoulder.  By and by he found a tree limb that would answer as a cane, and let go the shoulder.

“You scout ahead,” he told Tim.  “You’ve got to be the eyes of this party.  We can guard against surprise better if we separate.  Wait for me every little while.  Whistle twice if anything goes wrong.”