fresh the wound of the
night before and confirmed Dale's conviction that he was not wanted
in Troop Five. With the exception of one or two of the boys who had
been friendly before, he felt that the scouts agreed with Ranny Phelps
in resenting his presence in the crack troop of Hillsgrove. Because his
father was a working-man, because he himself sold papers to eke out the
family income, because, in short, he was poor and had come to meeting in
rather shabby clothes instead of a natty uniform, they looked down on him
as an interloper who had no business to be there. He would merely be
inviting further slights by appearing on the football field and trying
for a position on the troop eleven.

"I can just see Sherman Ward's expression if I did!" he thought bitterly.
"He's the niftiest one of the lot, with his father owning the iron works
and about half the town besides. He wouldn't waste much time on me, I
guess!"

Taken all in all, Dale failed to pass either a pleasant or a profitable
morning. He tried to keep his mind on the lessons, but that wasn't
easy. He had not yet decided whether or not to remain in the troop, and
this question seemed so much more vital and important than arithmetic
problems or dates in ancient history that his thoughts returned to it
again and again. He hated the idea of staying where he wasn't wanted, and
yet to leave now would look as if he were a coward, afraid to face the
jibes and sarcasms of the fellows who didn't like him.

The end of the morning session found the problem still unsolved. Dale was
a little slow putting his books away, and when he came to look for
Parker, who usually walked home with him, Court was nowhere to be seen.
As he left the building he noticed a bunch of high-school boys from
upstairs laughing and fooling on the corner. Ranny Phelps was among
them, and several other members of Troop Five, and unconsciously the
tenderfoot paused for an instant and half turned as if to seek the
other exit. A second later his lips tightened and a dull flush came
into his cheeks. He never went home that way, why should he take it now?
Swiftly he turned back, and with head high in a desperate effort to look
unconscious, he started briskly down the walk. He was within a dozen
feet of the jolly group when all at once there came a hail from behind.

"Hi, Dale!"

Astonished, he turned at the call to see Sherman Ward coming down the
school steps. For a moment it seemed as if he must have be