nd scouts don't carry any more than they need;
And I'd keep just one for a rainy day.

"Good? Want to hear more? Second verse by special request. They're off:

"If I could turn like an old windmill,
I'd do good turns all day;
With noble deeds the day I'd fill.
But you see I'm _not_ an old windmill.
And I ain't just built that way,
I ain't."

Gilbert decided that however unusual were these ballads of scouting,
they did not emanate from thief or hobo; and he climbed resolutely over
the log. Even the comparative mildness of the savage gorilla to this new
kind of scout did not deter him.

The scout anthem continued.

"If I was a roaring old camp-fire,
You bet that I'd go out;
Oh, I'd go out and far and near,
For a camp-fire has the right idea;
And knows what it's about!"

Gilbert crept along the farther side of the log till he came to an
opening among the tangled roots. It was a very small but cozy little
cave that he found himself looking into. In a general way, it suggested
a wicker basket or a cage, except that it was black and damp. Within
was a little fire of twigs. Tending it was a young fellow of perhaps
twenty years of age, wearing a plaid cap. He was stooping over the
little fire. Nearby, in a sort of swing made by binding two hanging
tentacles of root, sat the wandering minstrel, swinging his legs to keep
his makeshift hammock in motion.

Gilbert Tyson contemplated him in speechless consternation. There he
was, the ideal ragged vagabond, and he did not cease swinging even when
he discovered the visitor.

"H'lo," he said; "gimme my hat, that's just what I wanted; glad to see
you."

Dumbfounded, Gilbert tossed the hat over to him.

"I wouldn't sell that hat," said Hervey, putting it on, "not for a
couple of cups of cup custard. Sit down. Here's the chorus.

"Then hurrah for the cat with its nine little lives,
And the good turn windmill, too.
And hurrah for the fire that likes to go out,
When the hour is late like a regular scout;
For that's what I like to do,
_I do._
You bet your life I do!"

CHAPTER XXVI

LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG

"Where did you find the hat?" Hervey inquired. "I bet you can't sit on
this without holding on. Were you in the swamp? This is my friend, Mr.
Hood--Robin Hood--sometimes I call him _Lid_ instead of _Hood_. Call him
_cap_ if yo