fur on ten bob!'

'And it will be all right about your wages for the week, Chippy,' said
Dick; 'I've settled about that with Uncle Jim. He laughed, and said he
rather fancied the firm wouldn't grumble at that.'

Chippy smiled and nodded, and then the boys plunged into eager
discussion of things they must do and master in order to be ready for
this noble trip.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE SCOUTS MARCH FORTH

At seven o'clock on Whit-Monday morning the sun's rays fell on the
backs of two boys marching westwards from Bardon at the scout's pace:
Dick and Chippy were on the road. They were in full scout's uniform,
and Chippy, in his new rig, looked as smart as Dick. Their hats and
shorts were of khaki shade, their shirts grey flannel, their
neckerchiefs and shoulder-ties of their patrol colours, their coats
rolled at their waists with spare socks and vests tucked away in the
pockets, their haversacks slung over their shoulders. In their
haversacks there was no food at present, for they had to purchase
everything they would need from their precious ten shillings; but each
carried a blanket which Mrs. Elliott had found for them. Then Chippy
carried a tin billy--a present from their instructor--and Dick bore,
slung at his belt, a tiny axe, tomahawk shape, its head weighing
fourteen ounces. This was intended for cutting wood; and, beside the
axe, each had a strong, sharp jack-knife, with spring back, so that the
blade could not close on the fingers. Being patrol-leaders, each wore
his badge on the front of his hat, and had a lanyard and whistle; and
thus accoutred, with patrol staff in hand, they marched on their way.

'I hope it will keep fine, Chippy,' said Dick; 'we can't afford to pay
money for lodgings. How long do you think we shall be able to keep
going on our money--till the end of the week?'

'Hope so,' replied Chippy. 'I don't want to goo back till we're
obliged.'

'Nor do I,' cried Dick. 'Well, there's the last of Bardon for a bit.'

They looked back from a little ridge, and saw the spires of the town
over a row of poplars.

'Ta-ta, Bardon,' said Dick. 'We mean to have a look at Newminster
before we see you again.'

'We do,' grunted Chippy.

Newminster was a famous cathedral city rather more than forty-five
miles from Bardon. To go there and back would mean a tramp of some
ninety miles in the six days, and that would be a very fair achievement
to carry out on ten shillings for all expenses.