"Hello, Tim," said Don.

Tim stopped short. His eyes darkened suspiciously, as though he suspected
that Don was acting as guardian. For a moment he seemed to be debating
what he should do; and while he paused, Bobbie edged past.

"Don't forget Monday," said Don. He wanted to shift the other boy's
thoughts.

"I may be busy Monday," Tim answered scowlingly. He took a step after
Bobbie, but found the patrol leader in his way and stopped short.

Don continued on down the road. He knew that Tim was aware why he had
walked with Bobbie, and he knew that Tim resented it. After all, what had
he gained? He couldn't be with Bobbie always. If Tim wanted to plague, he
could catch the little scout alone almost any day.

Abruptly Don swung around and went back. Tim, seeing him coming, set his
feet farther apart. It was a fighting pose. Don's heart fluttered.

"Look here, Tim," he said; "what's the use of stewing around this way?
Why can't we all pull together?"

"Did I do anything to you?" Tim asked.

"No, but--What's the use of tormenting Bobbie?"

"Gee! Are you the keeper of the whole patrol?"