Ernie added, turning to his brother. Jerry was scarcely any larger
than Paul, although the latter was a year younger. Ernie felt a
slightly nervous responsibility for the safety of the "twin babies of
the bunch," as some one had already referred to them in the course of
the day. Jerry, who, like Paul, was an extremely likable fellow,
resented being called the baby of the patrol, a term sometimes applied
to him when the Scouts were dealing in jocular personalities.

"Not much are we goin' home," declared Paul, energetically; "are we,
Jerry? I'm goin' along and carry my target rifle with the rest. What
do you say, Jerry?"

"I'm with you," the latter announced with spirit. "They can't leave us
behind."

"But you can't make the trip fast enough," Ernie insisted.

"We'll have to run part of the way, and the ground is rough, and the
snow and ice on the road make it hard traveling. We've got over two
miles of that kind of hiking to do, and less than an hour to do it
in."

"We can make it just as well as anybody else in this bunch," declared
Paul, stoutly.

"Well, come along, then; but you will have to obey orders," said
Ernie, speaking as one with military authority. "We're operating under
martial law tonight, and if you insist on coming along you must expect
to be treated like a soldier. Everybody bring your gun and flashlight.
It's cloudy now and will be dark before long."