und the boys deep in the mysteries of
knots. Jim looked up, his homely little face full of pride.

"Jack is learning me to tie all the different knots," he cried, "and
he's going to learn me ['teach,' corrected Jack softly]--yes, teach me
everything I'll have to know before I can be a Scout. Jack's a second
class Scout--see his badge? We've had a bully time, haven't we, Jack?"

Suddenly his head went down and his heels flew into the air as he turned
a somersault. Coming right end upwards again, he looked at Laura with a
doubtful grin. "I--I didn't mean to do that," he stammered. "It--just
did itself--like----"

Jack's quick laugh rang out then. "I know. You had to get it out of your
system, didn't you?" he said with full understanding.

That was a red-letter day to Jim. He kept his visitor until the last
possible moment, and stood at the window looking after him till the
straight little figure in khaki swung around a corner and was gone.
Then with a long happy breath he turned to Laura and said, half
apologetically, half appealingly, "You see a fellow gets kind o' hungry
for boys, sometimes. You don't mind, do you, Miss Laura?"

"No, indeed, Jim. I get hungry for girls the same way--it's all right,"
she assured him. But she made up her mind that Jim should not get _so_
hungry for boys again--she would see to that.

After a moment he asked thoughtfully, "Why can't boys be Scouts till
they're twelve, Miss Laura?"

"I think because younger boys could not go on the long tramps."

"Oh!" Jim thought that over and finally admitted, "Yes, I guess that's
it." A little later he asked anxiously, "Do you s'pose they'd let a
fellow join when he's twelve even if he is just a _little_ lame?"

"O, I hope so, Jim," Laura answered quickly.

"But you ain't sure. Jack wasn't sure, but he guessed they would." Jim
pondered a while in silence, then he broke out again, "Seems to me the
only way is for me to get this leg cured. I can't be shut out of things
always just 'cause of that, can I now, Miss Laura?"

"Nothing can shut you out of the best things, Jim."

The boy looked up at her, tipping his round head till he reminded her of
an uncommonly wise sparrow. "I don't _quite_ know what you mean," he
said in a doubtful tone.

"You like stories of men who have done splendid brave things, don't
you?" Laura asked.

Jim nodded, his eyes searching her face.

"But some of the bravest men have never been able to fight or do the
thing