or Sunday," and thereby did he make his
contribution to the hallowing of the day. After breakfast was the
regular time for announcement of the "order of the day" by the
scoutmaster, and for any special remarks, any complaints, any petitions
or suggestions.

"We are going to have a good day to-day, boys," said Mr. Newton. "We
have had a mighty fine week with our swimming and fishing and hikes, and
some of us, too, have found some 'treasure,' if not exactly what we
were searching for. This morning, after camp duties, every boy will find
a quiet spot apart from any disturbance and write a letter home. Tell
the folks how you feel, what you eat, what you do, how you sleep. Tell
them about the treasure hunt, tell them about last night's storm. I hope
the boy who got something special out of our 'near cyclone' last night
will tell his mother about it."

"Who was it?" came a chorus of voices.

"Don't bother about that," replied Mr. Newton. "Perhaps there was more
than one."

"I'm not 'shamed of it," piped up Chick-chick. "I'm it. Got Mr. Newton
out o' bed, I did, I was s' scared. Always have been scared 'bout
wind--born that way. But Mr. Newton says, 'D'ye know who walketh upon
the wings of the wind?' An' I said, 'Death'; an' he said, 'God! It's in
the hundred an' fourth Psalm.' S' then he said, 'You c'n stay in my tent
till the blow is over,' an' I said, 'No. I'll go back to me tent like
Christian. With God on the wings I'm safe.' An' as I went back saw Brick
Mason outside his tent swingin' hammer, an' I says, 'Ain't ye scared,
Brick?' an' he says, 'No. I ain't scared. I'm mad.' An' that's all is to
it, 'cept'n 'bout the feller I saw when I first went out."

"Now that's fine, boys," said Mr. Newton. "There's a double victory in
that. Don't slight your letters. Make them long and newsy. Remember
there will be Sunday School around the long table at ten o'clock. This
afternoon a man is coming from town who has been all around the world
and has seen the battles of great nations as a war correspondent. He
will speak at three o'clock. By special request we will hold our
camp-fire to-night at the summit of Buffalo Mound. Every scout will
carry an armful of firewood and his blankets, as a part of the plan is
to spend the night in a bivouac on mother earth. Now to your letters."

Glen sat looking out of his tent, just out of the glare of the sun.
Writing letters home was no novelty to him. At the school you were
supposed to do i