idowed mother had to take
in washing to provide food for the numerous mouths dependent on her.

Andy was a particularly bright boy, and many declared that he had a
future before him, if only he kept away from the one curse of his
father's life, rum. But as he hated the very word drink, there seemed to
be little danger that he would be apt to follow in the footsteps of the
brilliant man who had fallen so early in life, and left a family nearly
destitute.

"Meeting please come to order," called Paul, after he had been pushed
into a chair to serve as temporary chairman.

Soon the boys began to go into the details of the projected troop, its
meaning, what good it might be expected to accomplish, and everything
connected with the Boy Scout organization.

Paul read page after page from the book he had brought, while the others,
including the parents of A. Cypher, listened, and applauded at times, as
some particularly fine point happened to strike them.

"That ought to do for the present," said Paul, finally, as he closed the
book and beamed upon his mates; "and now, what do you think, fellows?"

"I'm just wild to get started, and more so than ever after hearing all
about the hundreds of fine things scouts can do. I'm a crank on making
fires, and I guess I'd qualify right easy for the championship in that
tournament!" exclaimed William Carberry, his face aglow.

"Yes, and I remember the time he nearly burned our house down, trying to
start a blaze without a match. He got the fire all right; but there was a
lively time around there, until the bucket brigade arrived, and slushed
things down. Oh! you can believe William; he's some on the fire racket,"
remarked the other Twin, at which there was a roar from those present.

"I move that we write out just what we intend to do, and that all the
fellows in the room sign it as charter members. Then we'll try to double
our dozen by a week, and rush things along. We already have enough for
the first patrol and half a second. If we expect to compete with those
other troops in the struggle for supremacy we've got to be awake and
doing."

"You never said truer words, Paul. What sort of a binding agreement had
we ought to get up?" asked Bobolink, pretending that it was Tom Bates who
spoke; for really the boy had a wonderful gift of ventriloquism, and
often amused himself, and his friends as well, by sending his voice into
strange places, to the wonder of those who were not aware of