Sure Pop and Uncle Jack were sprawled out side by side on the green river bank, talking over old times. Bob and Betty were hanging on every word.

"My first few months of Safety work among American factories and mills," Sure Pop was saying, "was largely planting. I planted the Safety First idea and gave it time to grow. I began with the steel mills; then I turned to the railroads, then to the wood-working shops, and so on."

Uncle Jack gazed thoughtfully at the sparkling river. "Well," he said at last to Sure Pop, "what results and how?"

"How?" repeated the little Colonel. "First, by putting the idea, Safety First, into the mind of every workman we met. Second, by whispering in his ear new ways of cutting out accidents—after the Safety First idea had had a chance to sink in. Results? Three fourths of the deaths and injuries in the steel mills were cut out entirely in six years' time; in the railroads, the number of accidents was cut squarely in two in three years' time; in other kinds of work—all except one—big reductions all along the line."

"Great!" There was no mistaking the admiration in Uncle Jack's voice. "What about the one exception—what line was that?"

"It's a certain class of mills that is practically controlled by one man, a very able man, but exceedingly self-willed and stubborn. He owns a chain of mills from coast to coast, and the rest of the manufacturers in his line follow his lead in everything. He has fought the Safety First idea from the start—calls it 'one of these new-fangled notions'—will have nothing at all to do with it—and he has held back the Safety movement in his whole line of work."

"Hm-m-m! Hard nut to crack, eh? What's the old codger's name?"

"Bruce. He's done more to handicap Safety work than any other man in the country—and I do believe he's proud of it," said Sure Pop, grimly.

"Bruce—isn't that the man your father works for, Bob?"

Bob nodded. "He has a heart, though"—and he told them how the mill owner had come to Chance Carter's aid, and how like a different man he had seemed when little Bonnie threw her happy arms around him.

"Queer mixture, isn't he?" said Uncle Jack.

"Yes, he is. But don't you suppose our patrol could do something to change his mind?"

Uncle Jack waved the idea aside. "Forget it, Bob, forget it! Don't lose sight of what the Colonel told you Scouts yesterday about the right way to go at things. Well, the right way to go at Bruce is to leave him alone for a while. If he's as prejudiced as all that, interfering would only make him worse. He'll come around by and by, won't he, Colonel?"

"All in good time," said Sure Pop. "Your work is cut out for you, Bob, as I told you yesterday. Get the Safety First idea well rooted in the homes, and then we'll begin on the streets, and get folks in the habit of thinking Safety every time they cross the street."

Uncle Jack yawned and stretched himself.

"Can you spare these twins of ours for the day, Colonel? I've a frolic of my own I want to borrow them for, if I may."

"Sure pop! Go ahead, sir."

Uncle Jack stepped across the street to a telephone, and the first thing Bob and Betty knew, a big red automobile drew up beside them. "Jump in, folks—look out for my arm, please. Now—we're off! Goodby, Colonel."

"My, but isn't this glorious!" Betty nestled closer to her uncle as they sped along toward the shopping district. "Is this your car, Uncle Jack?"

"For today it is," laughed her uncle. "Today we'll just make believe I own the mint. Careful there, driver!"

Forgetful of his lame arm, he jumped to his feet and waved his hand in warning. They had been running smoothly along the car tracks, and another automobile had cut in ahead of them from around the corner. A tow-headed lad of about Bob's age, who was stealing a ride on it, holding himself on by main strength as the automobile jounced along over the crossing, had just made up his mind he would ride no farther and was getting ready to jump. Down he came, kerflop, in the street, stubbing his toe as he tried to catch his balance.

Uncle Jack's chauffeur, warned by his shout, gave the steering wheel a quick turn—and cleared the boy by a hand's breadth! Uncle Jack sank back on the cushions, his eyes flashing.

"Reckless young rascal! Trying to make murderers of us, is he? What are you Safety Scouts going to do about the boys' hitching on like that, Bob?"

Bob pulled a notebook out of his pocket. "Here's how Sure Pop has summed up our patrol reports on street accidents. He calls it—

"Those six tips are not guess work either, Uncle Jack. They're boiled down from weeks of street scouting by every boy and girl in our patrol."

"Those are good, sensible tips," said his uncle. "What use are you going to make of them?"

"Well, by the time vacation's over, we will have a special School Safety Patrol drilled and ready to get down to business on this particular work among the youngsters—to get them out of the habit of hitching on, and that sort of thing. Our idea is to begin with the smaller school children; there have been a good many bad accidents to them, you see, going to and from school. Most of them have to cross the tracks; it's altogether too easy for them to get confused and run down by a street car or engine or auto."

"That's right, Bob. How are you going to stop it?"

"Why, each Scout in the School Patrol takes charge of the school children in his block for one month. It's his job to get them together at a convenient corner in the morning, then herd them across the tracks and through the crowded streets to school; to do the same thing on their way home; and to keep an eye on their games during recess, reporting any risky condition to their teachers. We've planned it so this team work will not only keep the youngsters from being run over and all that, but will also be training them to take care of themselves and keep out of danger just like any Safety Scout. How does the idea strike you?"

"Fine! It's a good, practical plan! Makes me wish I were a boy again myself. Hello, here we are—out we go!"

"Why, where are we?"

"I'll soon show you." Uncle Jack led the way to the elevator and they shot up, up, clear to the roof.

"Hungry?" he asked, as a white-clad waiter showed them to a table. He enjoyed the surprise of Bob and Betty; they had never had luncheon downtown before. Mr. Dalton's hard-earned wages left no room for such celebrations as this. And a roof garden—! No wonder it seemed very strange and very grand to the Dalton twins.

They must have spent a good half-hour ordering that meal: it was fun to study the big bill of fare and pick out delicious things which they "never had at home." Uncle Jack seemed to find it just as much fun as they did, and he understood pretty well how they felt as they ate and ate, while they gazed out on the roofs of the city spread out below them. It wasn't so very many years, you see, since he had been a youngster himself!