as quick to start things as Felix Robbins was
slow. "I sent off and got a scout manual. It came last night, and
I'm soaking up the contents at a great rate."

"That was why I saw a light over in your room late last night, was it?"
George Cooper demanded. "Burning the midnight oil. Must have been
interesting reading, seems to me, Josh."

"I could hardly tear myself away from the book," responded the other
boy. "After to-night I'll loan it to the rest of you, though I guess
Tom must have got one from Mr. Witherspoon, for I see something bulging
in his pocket."

Tom laughed at that.

"Josh," he said, "it's very plain to me that you will make a pretty
clever scout, because you've got the habit of observing things down to
a fine point. And if you've read as much as you say, of course you know
that one of the first things a tenderfoot has to do is to remember to
keep his eyes about him, and see things."

"Yes," added Josh, eagerly, "one test is for each boy to stand in front
of a store window for just two minutes, making a mental map of the
same, and then go off to jot down as many objects as he can remember
to have seen there."

"That's quite a stunt," remarked Felix thoughtfully; "and I reckon the
one who can figure out the biggest number of articles goes up head in
the class. I must remember and practice that game. It strikes me as
worth while."

"Listen to the row up there, will you?" burst out George Cooper just
then. "Why, that lot of boys seems to be having a snowball fight, don't
they? Hello! it isn't a battle after all, but they're pelting somebody
or other. See how the balls fly like a flock of pigeons from Carl's
coop!"

"It looks like a man they're bombarding!" ejaculated Felix.

"You're right about that, and an old man in the bargain," added Tom
as he quickened his steps involuntarily; "I can see that bully Tony
Pollock leading the lot; yes, and the other fellows must be his
cronies, Wedge McGuffey and Asa Green."

"See the poor old fellow try to dodge the balls!" exclaimed Josh.
"They're making them like ice too, and I wouldn't put it past that lot
to pack a stone in each snowball in the bargain. They'd be equal to
anything."

"Are we going to stand by and see that sport go on, boys?" asked Carl
as he shut his jaws tight together, and the light of indignation shone
in his eyes.

"We wouldn't be fit to wear the khaki of scouts if we did, fellows!"
cried Tom Chesney. "Come on, and let's give them