“It was wonderful,” Mrs. Britt told her husband, “the way Miss Arabella went out of that door.  She had hardly time to say ‘good-bye.’  I wonder what has come over her.”

“H’m,” the captain grunted contemptuously, “most likely the hawk has been worryin’ that poor little bird in there, and it was that which made her so happy.  I don’t know of anything on earth that would please that skinny creature as much as naggin’ at some poor little innocent thing like Whyn, fer instance.  Her long nose is gettin’ more hooked every day.”

“Hush, hush, Joshua,” his wife remonstrated, “you mustn’t say such things about a woman.  Remember, Miss Arabella was greatly concerned about you this morning.  She thought you had gone out of your mind when she saw you signalling in front of the house.”

“She did, eh?  Ho, ho!  And I suppose she wished that I was crazy enough to be sent to the ’sylum.  That’s a good one, and I must go and tell Whyn.”

Miss Arabella had almost reached her house when she met Rod walking slowly along, with his eyes fixed upon the ground.  He was thinking deeply, and wondering how he was to earn the money to buy his scout suit.  So far he could see no way out of his difficulty.  He knew that if he spoke to Parson Dan and Mrs. Royal they would gladly give him the money.  But he must earn it himself, for that was the scout rule.

“Well, what are you after now?” was Miss Arabella’s sharp greeting.

“Grandmother sent me after the basket,” Rod explained.  “I couldn’t get into the house, and so I thought maybe you were dead.”

“Do I look like a dead person?” the woman asked, while a grim smile lurked about the corners of her mouth.

“No, not now, Miss Arabella.  But yesterday you looked as if you might die at any moment.”

“Well, yesterday is not to-day,” she snapped.  “I’m much better, so if you’ll come back, I’ll give you the basket you left here.”

When they had reached the house and entered the kitchen, Miss Arabella, instead of getting the basket, sat down upon a splint-bottom chair, and began to take off her wraps.  Rod stood in the middle of the room and watched her without saying a word.  When the hat and shawl had been removed and laid carefully upon the table, the woman turned to the boy.

“You told me yesterday,” she began, “that you are a scout.  Is that so?”

“Yes, Miss Arabella.”

“But where is your scout suit?”

“I haven’t it yet, and I can’t get it until I have the money.”

“Well, that’s just what I want to speak about.  Look here, Rod, you’re not such a bad boy after all, even though you did put a toad in my lap, and drop that key down my neck.  Now, I’ve made up my mind to help you.  I’m going to give you your suit, see?”

Rod started, while, an expression of joy leaped into his eyes.  He was about to speak, when he suddenly hesitated, and his face grew grave.