g.

'How goes it?' cried Dick. 'Have you bagged him?'

'Not a bit of it,' replied George Lee. 'It's the other way about.
He's bagged us.'

'Oh, Jerusha!' cried Billy Seton. 'The whole patrol! He's a scout and
a half, this one.'

For the most part the patrol took their defeat with the utmost good
humour, but Arthur Graydon's face wore a dark and angry look. This
look deepened as Dick chuckled:

'Well, Arthur, not much choking him off about this. Our friend from
the Raven Patrol seems to be doing the choking. There's nothing left
for us to do but smile and whistle, according to Scout Law No. 8.'

'Look here,' said Arthur sharply to Chippy, who was smiling on the
Wolves with a most amicable air; 'what do you mean by turning up behind
us? We expected you to be in front.'

'Well, I dunno,' replied Chippy. 'Seems to me a scout 'adn't ought to
expec' nothin'. He ought to be ready for wot may turn up--front, back,
or anywheer else. That's 'ow I read the book.'

He dived into an inner pocket and fetched out Part II. The Raven
Patrol had purchased it by putting together a halfpenny each, and
Chippy was the custodian.

'Page 81,' read out Chippy. '"A scout must not only look to his front,
but also to either side, and behind him; he must have 'eyes at the back
of his head,' as the saying is." Now,' went on Chippy, 'that's
'IMSELF. Wot about it?'

Arthur had no answer to this home thrust. He turned to another point.

'How did you get behind us?'

'Me?' replied Chippy--'I come clean through the line.'

'Oh, nonsense!' cried two or three boys. 'We were watching on each
side and in front too closely for that.'

Chippy grinned. 'Yer worn't watchin' close enough to see wot wor in
the waggon from Bland's Mill,' he remarked.

'You were in the waggon?' cried Billy Seton. Chippy nodded, and went
on to explain.

'But at that rate,' said Arthur, 'you abandoned your duty of laying a
track.'

'Well,' said Chippy, 'there's plenty o' track now. I've bagged the lot
of yer long afore the track's finished. I reckon I'm in my rights
theer.'

'Yes,' said Dick; 'there's a good deal in that. In my opinion it was a
jolly smart bit of work.'

'Rather,' cried Billy Seton; and he began to sing the Scout's Song:
'Ingonyama' (He is a lion); and Dick responded with the 'Invooboo'
chorus (Yes; he is better than that: he is a hippopotamus).

But Arthur Graydon's angry voice struck in: 'Stop that fooling, Seton
and