f that troop out west is a friend of mine," said Tom,
"but I never knew it until this morning, when I got a letter from him.
They think I did it because I knew it was him all the time and liked him
better, but I don't care what they think as long as nobody loses
anything; that's all I care about. So if you'd be willing," he continued
in his dull, matter-of-fact way, as if he were asking permission to go
across the street, "I'd like to go up and stay at Temple Camp before the
season opens and fell some of those trees on the new woods property and
put up three cabins on the hill for Roy and the troop to use when they
get there. I wouldn't want anybody to know I'm doing it."

"What?" said Mr. Burton.

"I want to go up there and stay and put up three cabins," said Tom
dully.

"Humph," said Mr. Burton, sitting back and surveying him with amused and
frank surprise. "How about the difficulties?"

"That's the only thing," Tom said; "I was thinking it all over, and the
only difficulty I can think about is, would Margaret keep it a secret
until the work is done, and you too. They think I'm not a scout any
more, and I'm going to show them. If you think I can't do it, you ask
Pete, the janitor. And if I straighten things out that way nobody'll get
left, see? The hard part is really _your_ part--keeping still and making
her keep still."

"I see," said Mr. Burton, contemplating the stolid, almost
expressionless face of Tom, and trying not to laugh outright.

"My part is easy," said Tom.

CHAPTER XV

A LETTER FROM BARNARD

When Tom reached Temple Camp he found a letter awaiting him there. It
was stuck up among the antlers of Uncle Jeb's moose head which hung in
the old camp manager's cabin. He found Uncle Jeb alone in his glory, and
mighty glad to see him.

It was characteristic of the old western scout and trapper whom Mr.
Temple had brought from Arizona, that he was never surprised at
anything. If a grizzly bear had wandered into camp it would not have
ruffled him in the least. He would have surveyed it with calm, shrewd
deliberation, taken his corncob pipe out of his mouth, knocked the ashes
out of it, and proceeded to business. If the grizzly bear had been one
of the large fraternity who believe in "safety first" he would have
withdrawn immediately upon the ominous sound of old Uncle Jeb's pipe
knocking against the nearest hard substance. Uncle Jeb, like Uncle Sam,
moved slowly but very surely.

It was not a