.

"Guess we ought to know that cap, fellows!" he exclaimed. "The last
time I saw the same it was perked on the red head of Tony Pollock."

CHAPTER XVI

WHAT TO DO IN A STORM

"Would you mind letting me see that cap for a minute, Mr. Perkins?"
asked the leader of the Black Bear Patrol.

The farmer seemed to hesitate as though loth to let his only evidence
go out of his hand; but after one good look at the smiling countenance
of Tom Chesney apparently he felt ashamed of suspecting that so
clean-looking a boy could mean to deceive him in any way. So he passed
the head-gear over.

Knowing that Tom must have some object in making this request the other
scouts pushed closer and watched eagerly. They saw him turn the cap
partly inside out.

"I thought as much," Tom remarked laughingly, at the same time
carefully picking several tiny objects up, which he held before the
eyes of the admiring farmer, who had doubtless never before heard of
such a thing as "scoutcraft."

"Look for yourself, Mr. Perkins," Tom said exultantly; "you will have
no difficulty in recognizing these as fiery red hairs. The boy
mentioned by my chum here, has a brick-top like that. I should say the
evidence is about as conclusive as anything could be."

Mr. Perkins' mouth had opened wide. He was apparently thunder-struck by
the cleverness displayed by this stripling in clinching the guilt of
the party who had stolen his spring chickens.

"Tell me his name again, Bub," he said turning to Josh; "I calc'late
makin' it some warm for him unless I gets pretty good pay for them
fowls."

"His name is Tony Pollock," he was told with a grin, for somehow Josh
seemed to be tickled over the retribution that was likely to overtake
the boy who had for so long a time acted as a bully in Lenox.

After some talk the farmer withdrew, taking with him his evidence in
the shape of the queer checked cap, and also the best wishes of the
assembled scouts, who gave him a cheer as he drove away.

He had even promised to drop around at a couple of their houses with
messages hastily scribbled, to the effect that the boys were very well,
and having the time of their lives.

Needless to say that those who sent these were the tender feet of the
troop. Horace and Billy, who imagined that their respective mothers
must be lying awake nights in mortal fear lest something dreadful had
happened to the heretofore pampered darlings. Most of the other boys
were accustome