"Look here, Paul, what's this hull thing mean?" finally demanded the
farmer.

And Paul, remembering the fact that the old man was hard of hearing,
raised his voice as he thought fit when making reply.

"Do you want me to tell you the whole thing, sir?"

"I sartin do, every word. Blest if I kin make head or tail out o' it.
Reckons as how them leetle fairy twins ye read about must 'a' ben workin'
wile I slept; er else I'm dreamin' things that caint be true."

"Listen, Mr. Growdy," Paul went on. "Perhaps you may not know that we
have started a troop of the Boy Scouts here in Stanhope. Some twenty of
us have joined, and later on we hope to get uniforms, and other things
needed, when we have earned the money to buy them. Those boys you heard
running away were my friends and comrades, every one going to be a true
scout."

"Soldier bummers then, out on a raid, and ready to kerry off everything
they kin lay hands on," grumbled the old man, still unable to grasp the
true condition of affairs.

"At a meeting to-night in Mr. Shipley's barn we made further progress
looking to perfecting our organization. But boys will be boys, you know;
and one of our number asked the rest to help him get even with you,
because you forced him into the ditch this afternoon, upsetting his
wagon."