trifle worried. "I--I didn't think of that,"
he said; "I guess they could. But I don't want much out of it myself,"
he added, in a voice that had almost a note of pleading in it; "and I
picked out the easiest shacks. They'd--I'd be willing--they'd get most
of the money. Beggars can't be choosers. I'm out of work--I--"

"And it's best for youngsters to have a boss, eh?" Mr. Bennett added,
genially. "Well, I guess you're right. Somebody to keep them out of
mischief."

The scouts and their new friend strolled out onto Main Street and,
pausing there in a little group, continued talking.

"If you think we're the kind to get an idea from you and then go and use
it and leave you out, you're mistaken," said Connie Bennett.

"The camp isn't mine," their new friend said, hesitatingly.

"No, but that particular job is yours," Westy Martin insisted, "and
we're on that job, if we go there at all."

"That's a good argument," Pee-wee ejaculated.

"Are you staying up there?" Connie asked.

The stranger seemed pleased, even relieved. That uncertain, diffident
smile hovered for a moment about his mouth. "I'd treat you right, that's
sure," he said. "It's pretty hard for a fellow to get work. I just sort
of stumbled into this--"

"Well, I'm glad you stumbled into us, too," said Roy, a note of sympathy
and sincerity in his voice that there was no mistaking. "We'll have to
speak to our mothers and fathers, but don't you worry, we have them
trained all right. We have cooking outfits and everything, too. We'll
take a hike up there to-morrow. We'd like to make some money, but gee
whiz, that isn't the only thing we care about. Camping and all
that--that's what we like. Don't we, Westy?"

"Where can we find you up there?" Westy asked.

"You go up the Knickerbocker Road and right in through the old
entrance," Blythe said. "The second shack you come to on your left is
where I'm bunking. You'll see me around somewhere."

"You do your own cooking?" Artie Van Arlen asked him.

"Yes, but I'm not much of a cook," Blythe said. "I--I don't--I won't get
anything till the work's finished--"

"You should worry about that," Roy said.

"I guess I can eat most anything," Blythe.

"Can you eat as many as eleven?" Pee-wee laughed.

"Can you eat as many as eleven?" Pee-wee demanded.

That same elusive, half-bashful, pleasant smile lingered on the
stranger's lips again as he said, "--I guess--not--"

"Then I can beat you," Pee-wee announced c