"Hurrah for the 7th infantry," he shouted. "I mean the seven infants,"

he amended laughing.

The boys maintained their composure with difficulty at this sally, but following Fred's leadership, wheeled and marched up, abreast, to the front steps, where they stood marking time.

"At your service, Captain," announced Fred, saluting.

"Present arms, shoulder arms, port arms, order arms!" commanded Jerry's father.

The bewildered company started to comply, but the orders came too fast for them, and soon their efforts were checked by a merry shout from the captain.

"Back to training camp," he ordered. With a general laugh the boys broke ranks.

"We're goin' on a scout tramp over to Phipps' ranch," announced Jerry.

"This is a good day," a.s.sented the captain. "Been kind of cloudy all morning, so you won't find it very warm walking."

"How do you like us," asked Fly, looking down at his khaki trousers, while the others looked up expectantly.

"You look like regular soldiers," commented Mrs. Windham, who had joined the captain and his wife at the window.

"Your suits are very pretty," put in Mrs. Crawford.

"Ha--Ha!--your mother says the suits are pretty," reiterated the captain. "Guess that's handing it to you."

"Oh, as for us," retorted Fred. "We're just plain handsome."

"Tell Phipps he's spoiling the whole bunch of you," enjoined the captain, as the party started down the road that led to the ranch.

They had been unable to bring all their new equipment, but the canteens were strapped on and each boy carried his Remington. The whistles, drinking cups and penknives were safely stowed away in trouser pockets.

On their shirts were pinned the new Boy Scout badges.

"Sorry Hawke couldn't go," said Dunk. The aviator had some business letters on hand, and chose to remain at the Fort.

"Ever develop that picture you took in the mountains?" asked Fly of Fred.

"Yes, but it was no good. Something the matter with the plate. Hawke's got the proof," responded Fred. "Order, now," he added, with pretended severity. "Remember, left, right, left, right, ready," and the boys started off in correct step.

About midway in their tramp they met a group of Indians, of which Tommy was one, returning from a search for customers for their baskets and bead work.

"Pike along slow, fellows," said Carl. "I'm going to see if Tommy knows anything about our friend of yesterday."

He engaged the old Indian in conversation, while the other boys parleyed with the squaws over their wares. After some good-natured teasing, Fred bought a particularly attractive woven basket for his mother, and Gray purchased a bead belt, which he intended to take to his sister when he went back to New York.

"Tommy doesn't seem to know very much about him," informed Carl when he joined his companions. "Says he showed up here about a week ago, and wanted to know if anyone could tell him where he could find the old Thunder Bird shrine."

"Did Tommy ever see him before?" asked Dunk.

"No. None of these Indians around here ever did. He says he has been down in the Mexico mining districts, but claims to be an Araviapa Apache. That's what my father was, and he looks to be of the same tribe."

"Looks somethin' like you," remarked Fly.

"I think so too," chimed in Fred.

"Well, Tommy says the old scout has an idea he has done something to offend the Great Spirit," continued Carl, "and, unless he makes some kind of reparation, he won't get into the happy hunting ground with his ancestors."

Carl smiled at this fallacy which he had long since abandoned.

"Did he say what he had done?" inquired Herb.

"No, merely said that a medicine man told him he was on the wrong side of the deity and that he'd better make up. Seems that he thinks if he puts the Thunder Bird back on its shrine again everything will be all right. I think he's got the talk of some missionaries and his own ideas mixed. It isn't like an Indian to be making up for bad deeds."

"Get in line there, you scouts," ordered Fred, for his patrol had disorganized during Carl's conversation.

"Remember you have to stick to the rules," added the leader, trying to be severe.

The boys fell back at once, and started on two and two, keeping step and order the rest of the way.

Though shorter than any of the other boys, young Windham had the personality of a commander, and, as he marched on ahead, his head erect, and square shoulders set, he gave promise of being an influential leader later on in life.

It was about two hours afterward that they reached the outskirts of the Bread Pudding ranch, tired but by no means f.a.gged.

They stopped for a few minutes' rest and adjustment. After a long drink from their canteens, which they had filled with ice water before leaving the Fort, they laved their faces and hands. Then refreshed but somewhat excited, they started for the ranch-house.

It was agreed that Jerry should not begin drumming until they had come very near, planning to take a path on the other side of the house which brought them very close without disclosing them until they were within full view of the veranda.

As they came up, the drum rolling, they saw Hop Sing, who was gathering vegetables for dinner, stop, look, and then make for the kitchen as fast as his thin legs would take him.

"Look at those chop suey drumsticks," laughed Fly, as the c.h.i.n.k vanished through the doorway.

"Never recognized us," laughed Jerry, giving his sticks an extra twirl, and, consequently, producing more noise.

They saw Mr. Phipps before he sighted them. He had arisen from his seat on the veranda, where he had been enjoying his newspaper before dinner should be announced, and was looking down the road for the source of the commotion. As the boys turned sharply at the east wing of the big house, they were brought into full view. They walked steadily on, as straight as comfort would allow them, keeping step like a squad of trained soldiers, and looking neither to the left nor the right, although several of them could not help smiling. Mr. Phipps gave them one puzzled glance, then threw up his hands, and bending back his head, laughed long and loud.

"You young rascals," he roared. "Here I thought the state militia was out after my hide."

Fred led his small company around in a circle in front of the house, then made several zigzag figures which he had learned for a drill while in Cleveland. Finally they drew up, abreast, before Mr. Phipps, and, solemnly saluting, gave three hearty cheers.

"Fine, fine!" exclaimed the rancher. "My, but you all look brave and ferocious. You might be able to meet a real enemy--with his back toward you. Let's see how they fit."

The small army marched up onto the veranda, while the rancher gave them a critical survey.

"Couldn't be better," he finally announced satisfied. "Not if you had had them tailor made."

"They're certainly great," returned Fly, a little awkwardly.

Then he looked at Jerry, and the other boys followed his example....

There was a sudden silence, as they drew in a closer circle around Mr.

Phipps. It had been planned that Jerry should make a short speech of thanks to their generous patron. But though he was brave enough when the suggestion was made, now that the time had come the boy felt himself growing shaky and confused.