They had gone perhaps about halfway down the hill toward the boathouse when a big bay horse, drawing a light wagon in which were three boys, came quickly around a turn in the road.  It bore down on them so suddenly that only by a rapid scramble up the bank by the side of the road did Rand and Donald save themselves from being bowled over.

The newcomers would have driven on with a jeering laugh only that Pepper, angry at what obedience, neatness and order are Scout virtues.  Endurance, self-reliance, self-control and an effort to help some one else are Scout objectives.”

“Ah, cut it out!” protested Pepper.  “As Alphonse says ’that makes me the ennui.’  It sounds like a boarding school prospectus.  Tell as what it’s about.”

“Well, then,” replied Rand, “in words adapted to your comprehension, it is about hunting, scouting, camping, tracking; and Colonel Snow is interested in the organization.  He says that it is fine.”

“Speaking of tracking,” interjected Donald, “in my opinion it were no bad plan to be making tracks toward the boathouse if we are going to get anywhere the day.  It is getting bright in the east and it looks like a clear day, after all.  And I may also take occasion to remark that I haven’t had my breakfast yet, and this Boy Scout business doesn’t sound inviting on an empty stomach.  We can discuss it with more comfort when we have had a bite.”

“That’s the talk!” approved Pepper.  “That suits me down to the ground.  I’m beginning to get hungry myself.”

“Beginning!” exclaimed Donald.  “My

“That isn’t a bad guess,” laughed Rand.  “It is supposed to represent the track of a bear.”

“What are you going to do, Rand?” questioned Donald, “hunt bears?”

“Not at present,” answered Rand, “though I should like to well enough.  This is a booklet about the Boy Scouts.”

“The Boy Scouts!” demanded Pepper; “what’s them?”

“Shades of Lindley Murray!” exclaimed Rand, “do I hear aright?  What’s them!  And you a graduate of number one.  Really, Pepper Blake, I don’t believe we can let you in on this.  What do you think about it, Don?”

“I have my doubts about it,” replied Donald gravely.

“But what is it?” persisted Pepper.  “It sounds good to me.”

“That is better,” drawled Rand.  “It not only sounds good, but it is good, as you elegantly express it.  It, according to the pamphlet that I have here, is an organization for boys between the ages of twelve and eighteen to train them in self-reliance, manhood and good citizenship.  The movement is not essentially military,” went on Rand, “but the military virtues of discipline, looked like a deliberate attempt to run over them, sprang to the horse’s head as it was passing, catching the bridle, and with a loud “whoa” he brought the outfit to a stop.

“What are you t-t-trying to do, Jim Rae!” he shouted to the youthful driver, “run over us?”