“There’s Nuthin’s house,” remarked Bobolink, just then.

“And Tom Bates going in, with the Carberry Twins.  I hope we can enroll a dozen good fellows for a start.  The rest will flock over after a bit, when they get to know what fine times we expect to have,” remarked Paul.

They found that there were just a dozen present, counting A. Cypher, who as host was much in evidence.  Besides Tom Bates, the new boys were Philip Towns, Jud Elderkin, Joe Clausin and Andy Flinn; the latter of Irish parentage, but well liked, even though his widowed mother had to take in washing to provide food for the numerous mouths dependent on her.

Andy was a particularly bright boy, and many declared that he had a future before him, if only he kept away from the one curse of his father’s life, rum.  But as he hated the very word drink, there seemed to be little danger that he would be apt to follow in the footsteps of the brilliant man who had fallen so early in life, and left a family nearly destitute.

“Meeting please come to order,” called Paul, after he had been pushed into a chair to serve as temporary chairman.

Soon the boys began to go into the details of the projected troop, its meaning, what good it might be expected to accomplish, and everything connected with the Boy Scout organization.

Paul read page after page from the book he had brought, while the others, including the parents of A. Cypher, listened, and applauded at times, as some particularly fine point happened to strike them.

“That ought to do for the present,” said Paul, finally, as he closed the book and beamed upon his mates; “and now, what do you think, fellows?”

“I’m just wild to get started, and more so than ever after hearing all about the hundreds of fine things scouts can do.  I’m a crank on making fires, and I guess I’d qualify right easy for the championship in that tournament!” exclaimed William Carberry, his face aglow.

“Yes, and I remember the time he nearly burned our house down, trying to start a blaze without a match.  He got the fire all right; but there was a lively time around there, until the bucket brigade arrived, and slushed things down.  Oh! you can believe William; he’s some on the fire racket,” remarked the other Twin, at which there was a roar from those present.

“I move that we write out just what we intend to do, and that all the fellows in the room sign it as charter members.  Then we’ll try to double our dozen by a week, and rush things along.  We already have enough for the first patrol and half a second.  If we expect to compete with those other troops in the struggle for supremacy we’ve got to be awake and doing.”

“You never said truer words, Paul.  What sort of a binding agreement had we ought to get up?” asked Bobolink, pretending that it was Tom Bates who spoke; for really the boy had a wonderful gift of ventriloquism, and often amused himself, and his friends as well, by sending his voice into strange places, to the wonder of those who were not aware of his tricks.