“Oh, will you, grandad?” and Rod fairly danced with joy, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.  “Will you write at once?”

“Yes, dear.  I shall write the letter this evening, and it will go down on Monday.”

“When will the book come?”

“It should be here by Wednesday.”

“Oh!”

“But, remember, Rodney, you must not let this scout idea interfere with your school lessons.”

“No, grandad, I won’t.  I will study hard and fast so that I can read my scout book.”

Parson Dan smiled as he watched the lad’s enthusiasm.  He thought, too, of another boy, who also had been full of life and fun, but who had been unnaturally checked when he should have been directed and led aright.  He now realised only too well what a mistake had been made with Alec, and he was determined that the same should not be the case with Rodney.

The following days were very long ones to Rod.  It seemed as if Wednesday would never come.  He thought over everything Whyn had told him about the scouts, and wearied Mrs. Royal by telling her over and over again what he intended to do when the book arrived.  He had not seen Whyn since Saturday, but was looking eagerly forward to seeing her as soon as he had his precious book.

Rod hurried home from school on Wednesday, certain that his treasure would be awaiting him.  He did not dally along the road looking for birds’ nests as was his usual custom.  Neither did the butterflies interest him.  He had something more important on hand, which absorbed all of his attention.

He had almost reached the rectory gate, when an automobile whizzed past, half-smothering him in a cloud of dust.  This was a common occurrence during the summer months, and he paid little attention to the annoyance.  The car had gone but a short distance, however, when a horse, driven by Miss Arabella Simpkins, took fright, reared, wheeled, upset the carriage, and threw the driver into the ditch.  The terrified animal then bolted down the road dragging the overturned carriage after it.

The men in the car were greatly concerned over the accident.  They picked up the apparently unconscious woman, and found that blood was streaming from her nose.  Seeing Rod standing near, they asked him who the woman was, and where she lived.

“She’s Miss Arabella,” was the reply.  “Guess her nose is hurt.  Captain Josh said if ever she got into an accident it would be the first thing that would get smashed, ’cos it’s so long, and is always poking into other people’s affairs.”

The three men looked keenly at the boy, and then at one another, while the faint semblance of a smile lurked about the corners of their mouths.

“We must get her home at once,” one of them remarked.  “Is there a doctor anywhere near, boy?”

“The doctor lives five miles down the road,” Rod replied.  “But I guess we don’t need him.  Just wait a minute.  I know what will stop that bleeding.”