his breath. _Would_ the Wolf patrol--

"Fox patrol," Mr. Wall announced, "a perfect score. Eagle patrol, all
present, all clean, but one scout talking in ranks, one-half point off.
Wolf patrol, one scout untidy, one scout late, one and one-half points
off."

A moment later the lines were broken. Tim turned to the unhappy Bobbie.

"See what a fine fix you got us in!" he demanded angrily.

"I couldn't help it," Bobbie explained. "My mother didn't know she was
out of sugar, and the man in the store had to open a new barrel, and he
couldn't find his hatchet, and I had to wait."

"You should have gone for the sugar this afternoon," Tim insisted. "The
rest of us take the trouble to come here right and then you spoil
things."

"I couldn't help it," Bobbie said miserably. "I--"

"It's all right, Bobbie," said Don. "Don't let it happen again." He was
disappointed, but what was the use of jumping on a scout who was trying
to do right?

"What's the use of me slicking up," Tim scowled, "if other fellows are
going to do as they please?"

The scout scribe walked toward the slate. Instantly Bobbie and his lapse
were forgotten. Every eye in the room watched while the scribe rubbed out