Wednesday he was the first scout to reach troop headquarters. Inside, on
the wall, was the slate:
PATROL POINTS
Eagle 13
Fox 14
Wolf 16
Don stared at the sign a long time. What an honor it would be to win! Not
the mere honor of getting a prize--he didn't mean that. But the honor of
being the best scouts in the troop, the honor of achievement, the honor
of something well done.
He heard a noise at the door. It was Andy Ford.
"Any trouble with Tim?" Andy asked at once.
Don shook his head.
"Did you tell him? What did he say?"
"Nothing."
Andy puckered his eyes. "What's the matter with Tim, anyway? Is he going
to grouch just because he wasn't elected patrol leader? He has the
makings of a good scout."
There was the sound of a step outside.
"Sssh!" Don said softly.
Tim put his head in through the doorway. "Are we the only fellows here?"
he demanded. "I want to get to the field and do some ball playing."
Don said that Ritter and Bobbie would be along any minute. Tim came in
and sauntered around the room. He banged his mitt against the scout
staves in the racks and seemed to find pleasure in the noise. Finally
he brought up in front of the slate.
"Think we can stick in the lead?" Andy asked.
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