Paul had to laugh out loud at this.

"Say, you're on to us, all right, Manchester," he said, turning around.
"Yes, we've come down here just to take a peep at this great prize. Of
course we'd like mighty well to say we meant to win it; but we're too
modest for that. The most we admit is that we mean to make a try for it.
Of course we haven't got much show against two such veteran troops as
Manchester and Aldine; but we want to get all the fun out of the game we
can. And you won't begrudge us that, Claypool?"

"Sure we won't, Morrison," returned the other, frankly, thrusting out
his hand; "as I said before, the more in it the better. It will make our
victory look bigger."

"Glad to see you're so dead sure of winning out," laughed Paul; "whenever
the Stanhope boys go into anything they always work harder if they have
big odds against them. But all the same that's a bully good banner, and
no matter whether it has an eagle, the head of a beaver, or that of a
fox worked on it in colored silk, it's going to be something we'll all
be proud of as Boy Scouts."

"That's well put, Morrison; though you might just as well get it out of
your head now as later that the Manchester fellows will ever let any
crowd come in here and take that dandy flag away. Why, our fellows know
ten times as much about scout tactics as your greenhorns do now."

Claypole did not mean to be overbearing; when he said this he really
believed it to be an actual fact.

"That's very true," said Paul, quietly, as he and his chum prepared to