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Heyliger, William

"Don Strong, Patrol Leader"

Hear me?"
Tim's eyes were unusually bright, but his heart had begun to drop to
normal. A sudden decision had come not to let this prospect run away with
him. He knew the bitter taste of disappointment and he wanted no more of
it. He had started for Lonesome Woods in high spirits the last time, and
had come home in the dumps. There'd be an understanding before this
start. There'd be an understanding tonight.
He stuck close to Don, waiting for the moment when they could be alone.
It came.
"Look here," he said sharply; "why did you pick me?"
Don was startled. "Why--why--" How could he tell the real reason without
setting a new spark to the gunpowder in Tim's nature. "I thought you were
the fellow to go," he ended.
It sounded lame even to Don. It sounded like an evasion to Tim. Why
couldn't he be told the truth? What was there that had to be hidden?
He went back to the patrol. The thrill had begun to weaken. He tried
desperately to call it back. He wasn't going to be cheated out of a good
time. By and by, through dint of striving, he roused a new spirit of
anticipation.
Don walked with him as the scouts crowded toward the door. "Better come
around tomorrow, Tim, and talk over what we'll take," he said, and
wondered if Tim would offer any objection.


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