ducting a fight in the church basement, especially since
punishment of a worse nature must follow when their parents learned
about the disgraceful proceedings.

Accordingly Ted gave the order to retreat.

"Skip out, every duck of you, Tigers!" he called, hoarsely; "Hey! get a
move on you, Scissors, Bud,--everybody run!"

The spirit was willing with his followers; but the flesh proved weak.
The trouble was, they found themselves kept so busy dodging the
descending padded clubs of Paul and his friends, that they had little
time for maneuvring toward the lone exit.

William was in his glory. Long had he been deprived of his favorite
amusement; and he meant to take full advantage of this glorious
opportunity to let the red blood in his veins have free swing. The way
he whacked at the ducking followers of Ted was certainly marvellous, and
every time he made a hit he let out a series of gratified barks such as
must have astonished any real red fox of the timber.

One by one, however, the badly-used intruders sped out of the rear door,
pursued by a parting volley of vigorous strokes, and breathing threats
as they ran off.

From the interior of the gymnasium came a series of noises that could
mean only one thing--despairing of escaping in the same manner as his
companions, who were lucky enough to be nearer the exit, Scissors had
darted through the connecting door, and that was him banging headlong
into posts, or tripping over the various stacks of camping material on
the floor.

The furnace room was hazy with dust, occasioned by the tilting over of
several ashcans; but Paul could see that the enemy had been almost
wholly expelled.

Among scouts a peculiar custom often prevails. Each boy makes up his
mind to do some sort of good turn to somebody during the day. In order
to remind himself of this he frequently turns his badge upside-down
until he has found an occasion to even the score. No matter how small
the service, it must be something that brings a little pleasure or
profit to another.

Well, Paul grimly thought, as he drew out his handkerchief to wipe the
perspiration from his face, if any of his chums had failed to find a
chance during the day just past, to perform a service entitling them to
a sense of self satisfaction, after this little excitement they could go
to bed with clear consciences. For had they not shown several boys the
truth of the old proverb, that the "way of the transgressor is hard,"
and wou