"It means work," said Don. "If we practice once or twice every week--"

"Once or twice?" Tim cried. "Gee! Have a heart. Isn't that rubbing it
in?"

"We've got to be perfect," Andy said quickly, "and we're depending on you
for the big stuff."

"What big stuff?" Tim asked.

"Stretcher work, fireman's lift, artificial respiration. The hard stuff,
Tim."

"Oh well--" The praise seemed to have soothed Tim's feelings. "Maybe I
could find time."

Andy winked. Don walked to the door. Was that the way to handle this
hot-tempered scout--humor him a bit, praise him a little, give him the
important assignments?

"Here come Bobbie and Ritter," said Andy.

The two scouts arrived, somewhat breathless from running, and the work
started. Don took splints and bandages from the troop's medicine chest.
Tim and Andy fashioned a stretcher from staves and coats.

"Try it again," said Tim. "Too slow."

"Let Bobbie button as soon as the first coat goes on," said Andy.