nted it. After all, what had
he gained? He couldn't be with Bobbie always. If Tim wanted to plague, he
could catch the little scout alone almost any day.

Abruptly Don swung around and went back. Tim, seeing him coming, set his
feet farther apart. It was a fighting pose. Don's heart fluttered.

"Look here, Tim," he said; "what's the use of stewing around this way?
Why can't we all pull together?"

"Did I do anything to you?" Tim asked.

"No, but--What's the use of tormenting Bobbie?"

"Gee! Are you the keeper of the whole patrol?"

Don bit his lips. The talk wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"We've got to work together," he said, "or we won't have a chance for the
cup."

"Don't you worry about me," Tim said airily. "I'll do my share. Didn't I
show up for practice today?"

"Yes."

"Well, what more do you want?"

Don hesitated. Tim began to grin. He walked back to the fence and leaned
there carelessly.

"It--it's going to muss the practice if you tease Bobbie," Don said
slowly. "He'll be edging away from you, not knowing what moment you'll
twig him, and it will spoil the work. You can't give him a good fireman's
lift if he's hanging back."

"What are you doing," Tim demanded, "asking me to let up on him or
telling me?"

"I'm asking you," Don said slowly.

"Oh! Well, that's all right." Tim's grin grew broader. "I won't bother
him."

All the way home Don was haunted by that grin. He knew what it meant. Tim
thought he had started back to lay down the law and had wilted. Tim
thought he was afraid.

Don swallowed a lump in his throat. There was no use in trying to
disguise the truth. Deep in his heart he didn't know whether he was or
not.

CHAPTER III

TIM STANDS BY

It was a very quiet Don who sat down to supper that night. He had the
uncomfortable conviction that he had blundered. Having started to see
Bobbie past trouble, he should have seen him past with quiet firmness. It
had been a mistake to try to bargain.

Regrets, though, would do him no good. What was past was past. It was the
future that troubled him the most.

Tim, he was sure, would now carry a chip on his shoulder. And if he tried
to make him keep step with the other scouts of the patrol, and if Tim did
not want to keep step--

"You're not eating, Don," said Barbara.

He came to himself with a start, smiled sheepishly, and gave thought to
his supper. But for the rest of the meal he could see Barbara watching
him.