When
the meeting was over he went slowly to Mr. Wall with his troubles.
"The little blue bugs surely have you tonight," the Scoutmaster said
cheerily. "Let's reason this out. A month or so ago a frightened scout
told me that some of my boys were off for Danger Mountain. Remember?"
Oh, yes, Don remembered.
"Tim led that expedition. Do you think he'd do a stunt like that now?"
"No, sir."
"Nor I," the Scoutmaster said gravely. "He's swinging around, probably
because he's tied up with fellows who want to be real scouts. Would you
call that failure?"
The boy was silent several minutes. "No, sir," he said at last.
Mr. Wall clapped his shoulder. "Then there's nothing left to worry about,
is there?"
Don was somewhat surprised to find that there was not. The cloud had
vanished. He went home with his mind at peace. He had given Tim his own
head of late, and even Mr. Wall said that Tim was coming around. He'd
give him his head again, and wait for the sulks to wear off.
But it was hard to work with Tim all next day against the Ironside nine,
and to find him, even in the heat of the struggle, stiff and unbending.
And it was harder still to see the days of the next week pass and bring
no change. For a rumor had gone through the troop that the reason Mr.
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