sure that they would be late, and kept saying that everybody knew that
Mr. Wall started promptly on the minute. Don winked at the others and
led the way toward troop headquarters.

They were not late. Mr. Wall's watch, hanging from a screw hook in the
door, told them that they still had ten minutes. Don opened the patrol
locker.

"Who'll carry the ax?" he asked.

"I will," said a voice.

He turned. Tim Lally was waiting with outstretched hand.

"Oh!" said Don uncertainly. Tim took the tool and strapped its leather
sheath to his belt. He seemed to have forgotten all about his grouch.

Everything was noise and bustle and confusion. The Eagles and the Foxes
were grouped in front of their patrol lockers. There were cries of, "Hey,
Jimmy! what did you bring to cook? What did you bring, Charlie?"

Suddenly the silver notes of a bugle arose above the clamor. Assembly!
Lockers were banged shut. Scouts scurried outdoors and fell into their
places.

"Column twos," came Mr. Wall's voice. "Forward! March!"

Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, sounded eager feet. Down to Main Street and
then to the left. Alex Davidson waved to them from the door of the
grocery store.