but we didn't worry a bit when that happened, because, you see, Thad is
capable of turning the trick; he knows more in a minute about everything
in the woods than Dr. Hobbs could learn in ten years."

"Well, well, tell me about that, will you?" exclaimed the man, with some
little excitement; "and which of you might be Allan Hollister--I reckon
you're that party right now, youngster; and this stout scout here,
surely he must be the Bumpus who got into so many bad holes, and yet
always managed to crawl out again? Yes, I'm right about that; and let's
see, which one might be Giraffe--no need to ask that, when I look around
me. Then there was, another they called Step Hen, didn't they, not to
mention Davy Jones, Bob White and Smithy? Oh, I know you all, and I
want to shake hands with each and every one of you. Say, won't my kids
go crazy when they hear that I've actually met up with that lively bunch
of scouts."

"W-w-what's all this mean, mister?" asked Bumpus, actually trembling,
not with fear any longer, but actual delight to hear himself mentioned
in this familiar way by a stranger.

"Well, I'll have to confess that I've taken such a deep interest in what
my boys are doing," continued the revenue officer, "that I even read
every book they brought into the house; and that's how I came to know
about the doings of the Silver Fox Patrol, and who the eight lads were
constituting that branch of the scouts. Give me your hand, Mr. Scout-
master; I'm proud to know you, sure I am; and I hope you'll send a
written word back home to the two ten-year old twins, who know all about
what you fellows have been doing in the Blue Ridge, up in Maine, and
even as far away as the Rocky Mountains."