"Then the Wolf patrol elects a new leader," said Ritter. He glanced out
toward where Tim Lally was catching.

Andy's eyes puckered, and a swift change came over Bobbie Brown's face.

The practice ended. Tim came across the grass with a big mitt under his
arm. Ritter and Wally went forward to meet him.

"Tim won't get my vote," said Bobbie. "The patrol leader ought to be a
fellow who's up in things, like Don, or Alex Davidson, or you--"

"Don and Alex have it all over me," said Andy.

They watched the field. Tim was walking now with Ritter and Wally. Bobbie
reached a foot for the nearest pedal.

"Guess I'll ride along," he said. As he turned the corner he glanced back
across his shoulder. Tim and Ritter and Wally were talking to Andy.

Bobbie rode faster. Presently he came in sight of a house with a
white-washed fence in front and a sign rising above the lawn grass:

ROBERT STRONG & SON
CARPENTERS AND JOINERS
WINDOW SCREENS AND SCREEN DOORS
BIRD-HOUSES

A boy who whistled as he worked was tacking wire to a door frame.

Bobbie opened the gate and pushed through with his bicycle. The whistling
boy glanced up.

"Hello, Bobbie."

"Hello, Don. Phil Morris is moving to Chicago."

"To Chi--" Don Strong paused with his tack hammer raised. "That means a
new patrol leader, doesn't it?" The hammer fell and the work went on.

"Tim Lally wants it," said Bobbie.

A thoughtful expression came to Don's face. He went on tacking the wire
until it was all tight and snug. Still thoughtful, he cut the molding and
nailed it fast. From under one of the two wooden horses on which the door
lay, he took a can of green paint.

"Tim wouldn't make a good patrol leader, would he, Don?"

"Easy, there," Don warned.

Bobbie flushed. "Well, he always wants to boss things and you know it."

Don said nothing.

"Doesn't he?" Bobbie insisted.

Don dodged the question and demanded that Bobbie show him how he was
progressing with his semaphore. Bobbie retreated to the fence and sent
the message that was given him.

"Was that right, Don?" he asked eagerly.

"Right," said Don. He was on the point of sending the boy off with
another message when the gate clicked. Tim Lally advanced as though he
had important business on his mind.

"Hello," said Tim, and rubbed his fingers across the door. "Gee! Why
didn't you tell me the paint was wet? Give it a rub or two; that will fix
it up again. Did you hear about Phil Morris?"

Don nodded.