We crossed the road and hit into the woods going straight west. We knew which way to go because it was when the bell swung up that we got the echo, and because it swung toward the setting sun.

Every little while one of us had to climb a tree to see where the sun was. Lucky for us Temple Camp was in that direction, and beside the sun we had the smoke from the cooking shack to guide us. We took turns climbing the trees.

We didn’t play Follow Your Leader because our minds were on rescuing that person who was calling for help.

“I’m glad Temple Camp is in the same direction,” Warde said, “because I’m good and hungry.”

“I’m going to eat dinner and supper all in one when we get back,” Pee-wee said.

“I could eat hardtack or upholstery tacks or carpet tacks or gilt-headed tacks, I’m so hungry,” I said.

“I’d like to have—one—big—chunk—of chocolate cake,” said Garry.

“I’d eat a cake of soap,” I said.

Pee-wee kept trudging along, not saying much; he was thinking about supper, I suppose. He was in a better humor because he knew for sure we were headed for camp. Hervey kept going ahead of us and shinning up trees till he could see the smoke at camp. Every little while we all shouted together but no voice answered.

“The breeze is the other way,” Warde said; “maybe he can hear us even though we can’t hear him. Whoever it is he’s probably lost and rattled. Let’s shout to him to stay where he is. We don’t want both parties moving around, it only doubles the work.”

So we stopped and all crowded together so as to make our voices as much like one voice as we could and shouted “Stay—where—you—are— we’re—coming.”

We listened for a few seconds and then we could hear a voice, very thin and far off. It sounded like R-i-i-i. We guessed it meant “All right.”

We cut through the woods faster after that and pretty soon we called and the voice answered, and so we didn’t have to bother any more climbing trees. We were pretty tired and hungry but I guess we all felt good.

“They’ll never believe all the adventures we had,” Pee-wee panted, “because we can’t prove them. The best way is always to bring back some proof, hey?”

“Did you expect us to bring back the turntable and the sign post and the drawbridge and a couple of West Shore trains?” I asked him.

“In my patrol you have to prove all tests,” he said.

“That’s easy,” I told him, “because no one in that patrol ever passes any tests. All they know how to pass is the eats. Some of them don’t even know enough to pass the time of day.”

“You think you’re so smart,” he said. “Which is better? Some crullers or a scout?”

“Is it a riddle?” I asked him. “Why is a raving raven like a cruller? Because he’s twisted. Ask me another. What’s that got to do with taking tests?”

“When you took Test Four for a second-class scout,” he said, “you tracked half a mile and took a scout with you. I went alone. I tracked half a mile to Johnson’s Bakery and bought ten cents’ worth of crullers for proof. A witness might lie but crullers don’t lie.”

“How many witnesses did you have in the paper bag when you got back?” Garry wanted to know.

“Every test I ever took I brought back the proof,” the kid said. “I don’t bother with witnesses, I don’t.”

I said, “Sure, when he had to tell the points of the compass he went and brought home the North Pole and the South Pole and the East Pole and the West Pole to prove it.”

“Silent witnesses are best, that’s what our patrol leader says,” the kid shouted. “That’s the way we have to do in our patrol.”

“Listen to who’s talking about silence,” I said. “Don’t make me laugh. We should have brought the reflex echo home with us to prove we were up in that steeple.”

“Maybe we’ll take the original voice home with us, that’s better, hey?” Warde said.

That reminded us to call again, and that time the voice answered good and plain.

“Sit down and take it easy, we’re coming,” Garry shouted.

Pretty soon we could see a brown hat in among the trees.

“It’s a scout,” Bert said.

“He must be a tenderfoot to be lost five or six miles from camp,” Hervey said. “All he had to do was to climb a tree.”

“I know who he is!” Pee-wee started shouting; “it’s Willie Cook. He’s the new member of my patrol. He comes from East Bridgeboro.”

“You ought to tie a cow-bell around his neck the next time you let him roam around in the woods,” Bert said.

I said, “Sure. Why don’t you make him play in the backyard? Safety first. He’s a raving Raven, all right; he’s lost and he can prove it.”

“He isn’t trusting to witnesses,” Bert said; “he’s lost and he knows it.”

I said, “That’s one thing I like about the raving Ravens; they’re always sure of themselves. When one of them gets lost he knows it.”

“You make me tired!” Pee-wee yelled. “He’s a tenderfoot. He’s going to be the best scout in my patrol——”

“That’s easy,” I said. “Maybe he isn’t the best scout in camp, I’m not saying, but he’s the best scout that’s lost in the woods. A scout is thorough. He’s some scout all right; when he gets lost he gets good and lost.” Then I shouted, “What’s the matter, Kid? Lost, strayed or stolen?”

The poor kid just stared at us and smiled as if he thought we had saved his life.

“I’m—I’m mixed up,” he said; “I started and I came back to the same place and I don’t know where I am. Are you—did you come from camp?”

I said, “No, we’re on our way there. Calm down, you’re all right. The camp is about six miles west. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I’m—I’m doing a—a test,” he said.

Hervey Willetts just rolled on the ground and screamed. All the rest of us started to laugh except Pee-wee.

“These fellows are crazy,” the kid said; “don’t you mind them.”

“I’ve—I’ve got to cook some food,” the little fellow said, all kind of confused.

“What? Where?” I shouted.

“Lead us to it!” Bert yelled.

“What do you mean—food?” Garry said.

“I—I come first!” Pee-wee shouted, all excited. “He’s in my patrol! Where’s the food?”

“I’ve got to cook it and take it home for a proof,” the kid said.

Just then we all fell on the ground. I guess he thought we were dead.