It was Westy who spoke first. Just the same as it had been Westy to speak for the others at the stricken home of this child whom Emerson Skybrow had rescued. And what impelled Westy to break the silence was the sight of Pee-wee gone to pieces, all his boisterous enthusiasm ebbed away. A pitiable sight he was as he stood there, trying bravely not to show his feelings. Of all the botches he had ever made (and he had made many) this was the worst. Within twenty-four hours the local paper of Bridgeboro would have the name of Emerson Skybrow in glaring headlines. And he had lost him. A deed worthy of the scout gold cross had been done by this boy to whom a little girl and a noble dog paid the tribute of their trust and love.

As by a miracle, the boy who had “treated him fine” in the city was transformed into a rugged hero before his eyes. No wonder he saw that scarred and ragged figure as through a haze! No wonder the irrepressible Roy Blakeley kept his mouth shut. No wonder Westy, always kind and thoughtful, had to speak for the “boss” of the Raven Patrol. There is dignity in a boy’s last name and Westy paid Emerson this tribute in addressing him.

“Some searching party,” he said, quoting Emerson’s own phrase. “Some scouts, I’ll say! Skybrow, I’ll be hanged if I wouldn’t hide my little old face in shame, if it wasn’t that I like to look at you. Give us your hand, will you?”

“I’ll be very glad to,” said Emerson. “It’s pretty muddy, I’m afraid. Is this a new member of your troop, Harris? I’ve often seen you with the dog,” he added, addressing Toby. “They were lucky to find you.”

“What do you mean, new member?” Toby demanded. “Don’t pick on me, I’m out of it. Put me on the waiting list if you want to. There’s your scout, right there. Bob picked him out for you. You’ll find me up at Hamburger Mike’s any time you want me. If I’m not there, I’ll be talking to the girl over in the station.”

“That’s the talk,” said Westy. “Now we know you’re a scout and you’ll get tagged before long. Before we go any further, let’s get this thing settled. I hear a car coming, and I want to try to stop it and see if they’ll take us back to Bridgeboro. You’re wished onto the raving Ravens, you understand that, don’t you?” Westy asked Emerson.

“Why—eh, I promised in a way——”

“Yes, well, you’re going to keep your word, aren’t you?” Westy insisted. “If you’re willing to tie up with a bunch of simps like us. What do you say, Skybrow? We can talk it all over afterward, but just say the word now—on account of the kid.”

“I kept—I kept my—promise to you,” said Pee-wee, speaking with difficulty. “Gee whiz, I should think you’d be willing to join us because anyway, we’re not such terrible simps and anyway, maybe you can sort of teach us, kind of.” The sound of an auto was heard in the distance.

“Come on, Em, say the word,” said Connie.

“You’re very kind,” said Emerson.

“Is it yes?” demanded Artie.

“Why if, I’m sure——”

“Say yop,” said Pee-wee.

“Yop,” said Emerson Skybrow.

“Now to stop the auto,” said Westy. “Seems to be coming along pretty fast; I bet he doesn’t pay any attention——”

“Leave it to me! Leave it to me!” Pee-wee thundered. “I know a way to stop it! Leave it to me. Gee whiz, didn’t I even stop a circus parade?”

“Oh, absolutely, positively,” laughed Roy.

“And don’t forget Queen Tut,” said Dorry Benton.

“Oh, posilutely not,” laughed Roy again.

“Don’t worry about the auto,” said Connie.

“Leave it to Pee-wee,” laughed several voices in chorus.

“Safe in the hands of the fixer,” shouted Roy joyously. “Goooood niiiiiiight.”