Summer passed, and fall came in with the long evenings, and still the scouts had not hit upon any plan of increasing their bank account.  They had all kinds of suggestions, but after they had been thoroughly discussed, they were found to be of little value.  Some were too foolish, while others were beyond their power.

It was Whyn who at last solved the problem.  In reality, it was her mother who made the suggestion to her during her recent visit.  The invalid was delighted, and could hardly wait for the scouts to come to see her.

“I know what you can do,” she told them, when they had settled themselves about the room in their usual manner.  “You can make wreaths for the churches in the city.  They will need them for Christmas decorations.”

“Make wreaths!” was the surprised exclamation of all.

“Yes.  Don’t you understand?  You have them in the church here every Christmas, don’t you?”

“Certainly,” Rod replied.  “We make them out of hemlock, and club-moss.  But I didn’t know you could sell them.”

“You can in the city,” Whyn explained, “for mamma told me so.  They will bring from four to five cents a yard.  Wouldn’t it be great for us to make up a whole lot, say five hundred yards?  Let me see, that would be twenty or twenty-five dollars.  Just think of that!” and the girl’s eyes danced with excitement.

Then followed an animated discussion as to the kind of wreaths they should make, and the best time to do the work.  All this was settled by the entrance of Captain Josh.  He entered heartily into the plan, much pleased at the interest of the scouts in raising more money.

“Guess we’d better begin upon the club-moss first,” was his decision.  “The snow’ll be here soon, so while the ground is bare we kin gather as much as we’ll need.  We kin git the hemlock any old time.  We kin work at nights, and on Saturday afternoons, and Betsey’ll be glad to give a hand.  I’m afraid I don’t know much about sich things.  If there is any splicin’ to do, or special knots to tie, jist call on me.  If it had anything to do with sailin’ vessels I could help considerable.  But riggin’ up churches is not in my line.  Howsomever, I’ll help all I kin.”

The very next Saturday Captain Josh led his scouts into the woods to gather their first supply of club-moss.  He carried his rifle with him.  There was a black fox in the neighbourhood, which had been seen by several, and the captain longed to get sight on it “jist fer one little instant,” as he had remarked.

Phil had his small dog with him, which annoyed the captain.

“I wish ye’d left that critter home,” he growled.  “It’ll scare away everything fer miles around.  What’s the use of bringin’ my gun when that thing’s along?”

“Gyp wouldn’t stay,” Phil explained.  “I tied him up, but he chewed through the rope.”

“H’m,” the captain grunted, “I guess he’d eat through a chain by the looks of him.  He’s about the toughest brute I ever set my eyes on.  Does he ever eat people?”