It was not likely that Warde Hollister would forget his note book, for his habit of keen observation and a knack he had for full and truthful description had won him the post of troop scribe which Artie Van Arlen’s duties as Raven patrol leader had compelled him to relinquish.

“If it’s seven miles there,” said Warde, plainly elated at the thought of accompanying them, “all I’ll have to do is to write my little description when I get back and there you are.”

“A first class scout,” said Pee-wee, quite as delighted as his friend.

“It says fourteen miles there and back,” said Roy. “Maybe it’ll be seven miles there but we don’t know how far it will be back. Sometimes it’s longer one way than another. You never can tell.”

“You make me tired,” said Pee-wee.

“All right, you’re so clever,” said Roy; “how far is ten miles?”“How far?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You’re crazy,” Pee-wee shouted.

“Answer in the affirmative,” said Roy. “There’s a grasshopper, get out your note book.... Do you know what he did once?” he asked, turning to Warde. “He wouldn’t jot down a fountain in Bronx Park because he didn’t have a fountain pen–”

“You’re crazy!” Pee-wee shouted.

“He went into a store and asked for the handbook and when they told him they didn’t have one he asked for the feetbook. He thinks the feetbook has got all the daring feats in it. He–”

“Don’t you believe him,” Pee-wee yelled.

“Before he was in the scouts he used to be a radiator ornament on an automobile,” Roy persisted. “There’s a caterpillar, enter him up, Kid,” he added.

“Up at Temple Camp,” Pee-wee yelled in merciless retaliation, “they–they told him he could play on the veranda and he said he could only play on the harmonica!”“I admit it,” Roy said. “That was when I was a second-hand scout.”

“They ought to be called the Nickel Foxes, that’s what all the scouts up at Temple Camp say,” Pee-wee shouted. “Because none of them ever have more than five cents.”

“The Raving Ravens haven’t got any sense,” Roy came back. “Five is twice as good as nothing.”

“That shows how much you know about arithmetic,” Pee-wee retorted.

“It’s good the boss isn’t here,” Warde said, “or he’d laugh himself to death.” The boss was what they always called Blythe.

“Maybe you’ll say I didn’t discover him,” Pee-wee demanded.

“You’re the greatest discoverer next to Columbus, Ohio,” Roy said.

“Well anyway, whoever discovered him, I like him,” Warde said.

“Same here,” said Roy quite ready for any topic of conversation. “I can’t make him out but I like him.”

“He’s just down and out, sort of,” Warde said. “Maybe he’s been sick. That’s the way it seems to me. But he likes us and I like him. It’s fun to see him smile.”

“I wonder where he came from?” Roy asked, as they made their way across fields. “He never says anything about where he belongs or anything.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know,” Warde said.

“We shouldn’t worry about his history,” said Roy. “He’s all right and that’s enough. And he’s going up to Temple Camp with us if I can get him to.”

“I–” began Pee-wee.

“Sure, you discovered Temple Camp,” said Roy. “You discovered the North Pole and the South Pole and the clothes pole and the Atlantic Ocean and Atlantic and Pacific Tea Company and you’ve got them all down in your little book.”

“No joking,” said Warde. “I was–”

“I never joke,” said Roy, “except from Mondays to Saturdays, and on Sundays, morning, afternoon and evening.”

Warde tried again, “I was going to ask you about test four.”

“I’ll tell you about it,” said the irrepressible Pee-wee.“How about writing the satisfactory account?”

“It doesn’t include worms and ginger snaps,” said Roy.

“But what’s the usual way?” Warde persisted.

Seeing his new member to be serious and knowing with what a fine conscience Warde sought every honor, Roy answered him with the best knowledge he had.

“This is the way Mr. Ellsworth says,” he answered. “You must describe everything that might be helpful to your troop or to other troops or to the whole country, maybe. That’s the way it is. Everything that’s important or unusual you must notice.

“Mostly Mr. Ellsworth or one of the local council in Bridgeboro goes over the ground and sees if the account is satisfactory. In some troops they don’t do that. If it’s just written up all right they say it’s all right and let it go at that. But Mr. Ellsworth says it isn’t just the description that counts; it’s whether you notice everything. It isn’t just knowing how to write. That’s just being a good author. The other is being a good scout. See?”“Some scouts think they are authors,” said Pee-wee.

“The pleasure is mine,” said Roy. “I’m going to keep on writing our adventures as long as I have any paper. Then I’m going to buy some more.”

“I’m sorry for the fellow that buys the books,” said Pee-wee.

“So am I,” said Roy, “as long as you’re in the books.”

“That’s what I meant,” said Warde, trying to keep his companions on the subject. “The description is a scout test?”

“Anyway, it is in our troop,” said Roy. “Some scoutmasters just take the description and if it’s good they say all right. But Mr. Ellsworth and Mr. Kinney, he’s councilman, they’re crazy about hiking. They usually take a sprint over the ground and most always they see something that the scout forgot to mention. That doesn’t mean they’d turn him down though. You should worry, you’ll get away with it all right.”

Roy had no doubt of that, and Pee-wee had no doubt of anything which made for the glory of others. But they both noticed that during the rest of their hike Warde was watchful and preoccupied, occasionally jotting something down but oftener storing it in his clear, fine memory. He was taking no chances and they knew it. Here was his opportunity, he had grasped it just in the moment when it seemed to be passing from him, and he was resolved that before he laid his head upon his balsam couch that night he would be able to call himself a scout of the first class....