if I didn't want to be mixed up in a common
street scrap I'd better retreat, which I did ingloriously. Later I
managed to scrape acquaintance with him, and by making some inquiries I
found out that his mother is a widow and he was helping support the
family, that he had a reputation as a scrapper and that though he swore
like a pirate, smoked and chewed tobacco, as most of these street gamins
do, he was strictly honest and was a terror to the bullies of his
neighborhood. Also that he'd rather fight than eat. Just by chance I
discovered that his ambition was to become a soldier, but he was worried
for fear he never would be big enough. He's small for his age, stunted
for lack of good food when he was a kid, I guess. Next to going into the
army he wanted to be a prize-fighter. I talked scouting to him a little,
but he didn't seem interested until one day I happened along in full
uniform. That got him. I suppose it looked next best to being a soldier.
Then I told him all about my patrol and what we were doing and what
scouting stands for, and he gulped it all down like a hard run buck
trying to drink a lake dry.

"'Gee, Oi'd like dat, but it ain't for poor blokes the loikes of me,'
said he. That gave me an idea. There was a vacancy in the patrol, and at
the next meeting I put it right straight to the fellows. I told them all
about Sparrer and got 'em interested, and then I just kind of hinted at
the brotherhood and democracy idea of scouting and what a mighty good
turn it would be if Sparrer could be given a chance to get into the
game, and then dropped the subject. The hint worked all right. They're a
pretty good bunch, these fellows. They talked it all over and then they
came around and asked me if I supposed Sparrer would like to join the
Blue Tortoise Patrol. I told them that I was sure he wouldn't if he
suspected that the invitation was charity on their part. They chewed
this over for a while and then came around and said that they really
would like to take him in, and there wasn't any charity about it. I took
the invitation to Sparrer and he went up in the air like a rocket, just
as I knew he would.

"'Say, yer can't put no stuff loike dat over on me,' said he. 'Wot do
yer tink Oi am to fall fer a steer loike dat? Dat bunch of high-brows
ain't wantin' me trainin' in dere camp. Youse has been on de level wid
me, now hand it ter me straight--wot's de game?'

"I did my best to make him see that the invitation was sinc