mple. Runs right up to the peak
of the hill--see?"

Tom looked at the map of the new Temple Camp property, which almost
doubled the size of the camp and at the deed which showed the latest
generous act of the camp's benevolent founder.

"Next summer, if we have the price, we'll put up a couple of dozen new
cabins on that hill and make a bid for troops from South Africa and
China; what do you say? This should be put in the safe and, let's see,
here are some new applications--Michigan, Virginia--Temple Camp is
getting some reputation in the land."

"I had an application from Ohio yesterday," Tom said; "a three-patrol
troop. I gave them the cabins on the hill. They're a season troop."

Mr. Burton glanced suddenly at Tom, then began whistling and drumming
his fingers on the desk. He seemed on the point of saying something in
this connection, but all he did say was, "You find pleasure and
relaxation in the work, Tom?"

"It's next to camping to be here," Tom said.

"Well, that's what I thought," Mr. Burton said encouragingly. "You must
go slow and take it easy and pretty soon you'll be fit and trim."

"I got to thank you," Tom said with his characteristic blunt simplicity.

"I don't know what we should do in the spring rush without your familiar
knowledge of the camp, Tom," Mr. Burton said.

"I think he thinks more of the office than he does of the scouts,"
Margaret ventured to observe. She was sitting alongside Mr. Burton's
desk awaiting his leisure, and Tom was standing awkwardly close by.

"I suppose it's because they don't grow fast enough," Mr. Burton
laughed; "they can't keep up with him. To my certain knowledge young
Peewee, as they call him, hasn't grown a half an inch in two years. It
isn't because he doesn't eat, either, because I observed him personally
when I visited camp."

"Oh, he eats _terrifically_," Margaret said.

"I like the troop better than anything else," Tom said.

"Well, I guess that's right, Tom," Mr. Burton observed; "old friends are
the best."

He gathered up an armful of papers and handed them to Tom who went about
his duties.

The day was long and the routine work tedious. The typewriter machine
rattled drowsily and continuously on, telling troops here and there that
they could have camp accommodations on this or that date. Tom pored over
the big map, jotting down assignments and stumblingly dictated brief
letters which Miss Ellison's readier skill turned out in improved form.