quickest. We're probably wanted for messenger work."

"Well, I'm the oldest. I ought to have first chance," said
Graves.

But the discussion was ended abruptly.

"Fleming! Mercer!" called Mr. Wharton.

They stepped forward, their hands raised in the scout salute,
awaiting the scoutmaster's orders. "You will proceed at once, by
rail, to Ealing," he said. "There you will report at the
barracks, handing this note to the officer of the guard. He
will then conduct you to the adjutant or the officer in command,
from whom you will take your orders."

"Yes, sir," said both scouts. Their eyes were afire with
enthusiasm. But as they passed toward the door, Dick Mercer's
quick ears caught a sullen murmur from Graves.

"He's making a fine start," he heard him say to Fatty Wells, who
was a great admirer of his. "Picking out an AMERICAN! Why, we're
not even sure that he'll be loyal! Did you ever hear of such a
thing?"

"You shut up!" cried Dick, fiercely, turning on Graves. "He's as
loyal as anyone else! We know as much about him as we do about
you, anyhow -- or more! You may be big, but when we get back I'll
make you take that back or fight --"