If they should go into the woods together--He sighed, and shook his head,
and thought of Andy Ford. Andy would pull with him. Perhaps Andy would
expect the place.
Over Sunday Wally and Ritter brought around written consents, and Bobbie
announced gloomily that his father would not let him go. Monday morning
Andy brought his paper.
"Seen Tim yet?" he asked. "No?" He fell to whistling softly.
Late that afternoon Tim appeared. "There's mine," he said defiantly.
There was an awkward silence. Presently Tim walked out through the gate
and was gone.
Don sat beside his work and pondered. As a patrol leader, what should he
do? What was expected of a patrol leader--that he strive heart and soul
to bring victory to his patrol, or that he stake everything on making
one boy the kind of scout he ought to be? Victory for the Wolves, he
suspected, would soon be forgotten. That was how it was with baseball
victories.
Suppose he took Tim into the woods and nothing came of it. But suppose
something did come of it--something big.
"I wonder," Don mused, "I wonder what Andy thinks."
Tuesday passed. Wednesday came drearily with rain and chill.
That night Don purposely delayed his arrival at the troop meeting. He did
not want scouts looking at him and almost asking for the chance.
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