"We're sure gettin' awful tired of that war cry," declared Giraffe.

"It's always this thing or that he's lost, and never by his own fault at all. A sly little jinx is hoverin' around, ready to grab up a thing just as soon as Step lays it down. Still, I notice that every single time, it turns out he put it there himself. Get a new tune for a change, Step Hen, and ring it on us."

"By the way," remarked Smithy, who was very polite, and never joined in the loud and boisterous jeers that greeted some break on the part of a comrade; "what fresh misfortune has overtaken you now, Step Hen?"

"Oh!" replied the other, with a broad grin, "when our funny friends broke in on me that way, I was only going to ask if any of you wide-awake scouts had noticed that I had my badge turned right-side up, early this morning?"

There was a general laugh at this, even the three culprits joining in.

Among all Boy Scouts, it has become the proper wrinkle to turn the badge upside down to start the day; and the wearer has no right to change its position until he has done an actual good deed toward some one else; or even helped an animal that was in distress. Many are the expedients resorted to, in order to gain this privilege; for it is deemed in bad taste to spend the entire day with the badge reversed on the lapel of the coat.

A thousand ways can be found whereby the boy may feel that he has a right to alter the position of his badge, and prove that he had done something of a kindly nature, that is a credit to his character. An old woman may be helped across the street; a heavy basket carried for a child; a box that is trying the strength of a single man may be made easier to lift into a wagon by a pair of st.u.r.dy, willing hands; the harness that is galling the shoulder of a horse can be rendered less troublesome if a rag is doubled up, and fastened to the leather--well, the list of things that wide-awake scouts find in order to gain this privilege would really seem to be without end.

So all the others now turned toward Step Hen, with curiosity expressed on their faces; for they seemed to guess that it could be no ordinary explanation that he meant to give them.

"What wonderful stunt did you manage to carry through so early in the day, down in this forsaken country?" demanded Giraffe.

b.u.mpus looked forlornly at his own badge, that still hung to his coat lapel in its reversed position; showing that he, at least, had not been able to discover any means of doing a good turn to some object, however humble; in fact, he had, like most of the other boys, entirely forgotten about the usual programme. There were no old ladies to help down here; no errands to run for mother; no problems to solve for little brother; nothing but the everlasting mountains rising grimly all about them, and silence lying on the scene like a great blanket.

"I reckon I'm the only one in the bunch that's been smart enough to get his badge turned to-day," chuckled Step Hen, proudly exhibiting the article in question; "and I'd just like the fun of hearing all of you try and guess how I managed it; but then, I know you'd never hit on the truth in a thousand years; and so I s'pose I'll have to up and tell you."

"Oh! wake me up, somebody, when he gets really started," groaned Giraffe; "of all the slow-pokes, Step Hen takes the cake."

"I'll tell you," began the other, with a sly look toward the speaker, as though he purposely delayed his disclosure in order to annoy the impatient Giraffe; "you see, it was this way, fellows. I happened to be walking out along the back road just after we'd done breakfast. Thought I'd dropped my handkerchief somewhere, but afterwards I found it inside my hat, you know."

"Sure, it's always that way," muttered Giraffe, who lay with his eyes closed, but drinking in all that was said.

"Well," continued Step Hen, "all at once I noticed something that interested me a whole lot. There was one of them queer little tumble-bugs you always see ashovin' round b.a.l.l.s along the road, an'

goin' somewhere that n.o.body ever yet found out. This critter was tryin'

like all possessed to push his ball up a steep little place in the road. Sometimes he'd get her close to the top, and then lose his grip; when it'd roll all the way back again.

"Say, boys, that insect's pluck interested me a heap, now, I'm tellin'

you. Right there I got one of the best lessons a scout ever picked up in all his life; which was the old story, 'if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.' And he kept on tryin' again and again. I must a stayed there all of half an hour, just watchin' that game little critter pushin' his ball up against the hardest luck ever. And then, when I just couldn't stand it any longer I took bug and ball in my hand, and put 'em both up on top of that rise. And after that I thought I had a right to turn my badge right-side up!"

The scouts looked at each other. Somehow, they did not laugh, though surely it must have been one of the queerest reasons ever advanced by a fellow-scout, as an excuse for wearing his badge honorably.

Despite its grotesque nature, there was also something rather pathetic about the thought of Step Hen, only a careless, half-grown lad at best, spending a whole lot of time, simply watching an humble but game little beetle trying to fight against hard luck, and almost as interested in the outcome as the wretched bug itself.

"How about that, Mr. Scoutmaster; is Step ent.i.tled to wear his badge that way, on account of helping that silly little bug climb his mountain?" asked Davy, turning to Thad; but though his words might seem to indicate a touch of scorn, there was certainly nothing of the sort in his manner.

Thad himself had been amused, and deeply interested, in Step Hen's recital. Only too well did he know what a careless and indifferent fellow the boy had ordinarily been cla.s.sed, both at school and at home.

Seldom, if ever, had he paid the least attention to things that were happening all around him, and which might appeal to the sympathies of boys who were made of finer grain than Step Hen.

And now, it seemed that something had been making an insidious change inside the scout; when he could feel such intense interest in so trivial a thing as the pluck of an obscure tumble-bug. Time was when Step Hen would have cared little whether or not he came down with his heel upon such an object, which ought to know better than get in his path.

It was different now, since Step Hen had joined the scouts. His eyes had been opened to many things, the existence of which he had never dreamed in those other days. And he could never again be the same indifferent fellow; he must go on advancing along the trail that led to a better knowledge of Nature's great secrets; and above all else, the capacity that lay within his own heart for understanding these myriads of small but wonderful things.

"I'm not going to answer that question myself, Davy," said Thad, with a smile. "Fact is, I'd much rather have the candid opinion of every scout on the subject. So I'm going to put it to a vote, here and now; and I want you to be serious about it, small matter though it may seem; for upon such things rests the very foundations of the whole Boy Scout movement--observing, understanding, appreciating."

"Whew!" muttered Giraffe, "and all this fuss about one little tumble-bug!"

"Those who really and truly think Step Hen had a full right to turn his badge right side up for the interest he took in that game little creature's struggle to overcome what seemed unsurmountable difficulties, and for lending a helping hand in the end, raise the right hand," and Thad put his up for a starter.

Not counting Step Hen himself, there were just seven fellows present when Thad asked them to show their colors. And including the scoutmaster himself, just seven instantly raised a hand.

Thad laughed softly. It gave him more pleasure than he could tell to see that the boys understood the motive that had swayed their comrade. And doubtless this vote of confidence would urge Step Hen to go along the path he had discovered, with ever-increasing confidence, as its charms continued to be revealed in ever-increasing proportions day by day. A new world would soon open up to his inquiring eyes. He would find ten thousand things of tremendous interest all around him, to which he had up to now been as blind as a bat. Never again would he feel alone, even though no comrade were at his side; for he could discover innumerable objects about him at any time, calculated to chain his attention.

"Seems to be unanimous, fellows," remarked Thad; "and I hereby publicly commend our comrade, Step Hen, for his action of this morning. Yes, he did have a right to turn his badge. It was not so much _what_ he did, as the feeling he showed in, first of all, stopping to watch the bug; second, getting tremendously interested in its never-give-up spirit; third, in applying the princ.i.p.al to himself; and last but not least, his desire to lend a helping hand. For Step Hen, boys, this has been a day that some time later on in life, he will mark with a white stone; for he has begun to notice things. And with the fever on him, he'll have to keep on noticing, until he'll think it's not the same old world at all but one filled at every turn with splendid discoveries. I know, because I've been through the same thing myself."

"Hurrah!" said Giraffe, who had been considerably impressed by what the scoutmaster had said. "What did I tell you, fellows, about not missing Dr. Philander Hobbs, our regular scoutmaster, on this hike? D'ye think now, he could have said all that one-half as good as Thad did? I guess not. And Step Hen, I'm ashamed to say that the whole blessed day has gone by without my ever thinking to do something good for another feller, so I could turn my badge over. There she rests; and I give you all fair notice that to-morrow I'm going to start in right away to get it moving."

"Plenty of time to-night yet, Giraffe," piped up Davy. "I happen to know a fellow who thinks a certain knife you own would look mighty fine in his pocket, if only you'd take the trade he offers. Now, if you made him happy, p'raps you'd have the right to turn your badge; and he c'd do ditto, making it a killing of two birds with one stone. Better think it over, Giraffe."

The tall boy looked at Davy with a frown, and shook his head.

"'Tain't fair to put it up to me that way, Davy," he declared, obstinately. "You just know I don't want to trade, the least bit. Now, if you'd say, that on the whole you'd concluded to quit botherin' me, that would be a good deed, and I reckon you'd ought to have the right to turn your badge."

At this ingenious return thrust Davy subsided, with a grin, and a general laugh arose from the other scouts.

But if most of the boys were merry, there was one who looked sober enough. Of course this was Bob Quail. He knew what a tremendous undertaking he had before him, and the results seemed so uncertain that it was only natural he should feel the heavy weight resting upon his young shoulders.

First of all, he must meet his cousin, Bertha, and learn what success had followed her efforts to discover whether the paper she had seen by accident in her guardian's safe was the missing doc.u.ment which Bob believed Reuben had abstracted, placing another in its place. Then, later on, he had that appointment with Polly, the moonshiner's daughter, who was to bring him news concerning the mysterious prisoner.

Yes, Bob certainly had quite enough on his young mind to make him anything but jovial. Still, he had been more or less interested in what was going on around him, for he was, after all, a boy.

They were eating supper, as they chatted in this way. Night had settled down on the scene. It promised to be a pretty dark night at that, Thad realized, as he looked around him, and then up at the heavens, where a few stars held forth, but gave very little light.

It was fortunate that Bob happened to be so well acquainted around that vicinity otherwise he would never have been able to cross to the other side of the strange little basin which they called a valley, without carrying a lantern; and this in itself must be out of the question, since its light would betray him.

While they were eating, they heard a gunshot not far away.

"Wow! what d'ye think that means?" exclaimed Giraffe, jumping to his feet, and looking off in the gloom toward the back trail. "Seemed to me like it came from down that way, eh, boys."

"It sure did," announced Davy Jones, positively.

"And it was a gun in the bargain, with a big load. What d'ye s'pose they could find to shoot at in the dark?" demanded Step Hen.

"Oh! lots of things," replied Allan. "If a bobcat jumped in on us right now, we'd think of using our gun, wouldn't we? But it might be that shot was some sort of signal, after all."

"There wasn't any answer, that's sure," interposed b.u.mpus.

"But seems to me I can hear somebody talking pretty loud that way,"

observed the listening Thad.

"I did too," declared Smithy; "but it's died away now, as though the excitement might be over. I wonder what it was, fellows?"

"Chances are, we'll never know," returned Giraffe, settling back once more to continue eating, for he was not yet through.

"Lots of queer things are happening all around us, that we'll never know," remarked Step Hen, seriously.