nodded. Perhaps he did not have quite as much faith as
the young scout-master, because he may not have been as good a reader
of character; but he realized that what Smithy had just done was as
valiant a thing for one of his nature as attacking a wildcat would be
for another boy, built along different lines. For he was defying what
had threatened to become a part of his own being, and with gritting
teeth trying to show himself a real flesh and blood boy for once.

"When we're all ready, fellows," remarked Thad, presently; "the bugler
will sound taps, and after that, see to it that all lights are out but
the camp-fire. I've fixed that so it will burn several hours; and once
or twice during the night Allan or myself will crawl out, to add some
wood from the pile you heaped up here. Not that we need the heat, you
understand; but there ought to be a lot of sentiment connected with a
first camp-fire; and the Silver Fox Patrol must never forget this one.
All ready now?"

"Hold on!" called some one from inside the near tent; "I can't find part
of my pajamas; and it'd be too cool to sleep with only half on. Now
ain't it funny why it's always _my_ things that get taken? Just like I
was going to be a target for all the fun that's going."

"Of course it's that poor old careless Step-hen again, always throwing
his things around, and forgetting where he put 'em," said Davy, in a
tone of disgust; then he took a peep inside, and burst out into a roar
of laughter, adding: "Well, did I ever see such a crazy thing? Hi!
fellows look here, and see him hunting around like fun for the lower
half of his pajamas, when they are trailing behind him right now,
fastened to the shirt part; and he never got on to it. It's right
killing, I declare."

"How could I see behind me?" grumbled Step-hen, as he hastened to get
into the balance of his night outfit; "my eyes happen to be fixed in
front; but some of you smart set may be able to see both ways. All
ready, Mr. Scout-Master; let her go!"

The eight boys presented a comical appearance as they stood there,
awaiting the sweet notes of the bugle sounding "taps;" for their pajamas
were of all sorts of patterns, from gay stripes to deep solid blues and
reds.

Thad gave one last look around, and picking up a lantern motioned to
Allan to take charge of the other, so that at the last notes they could
"douse the glim."

Then he turned toward the stout bugler, clad in the gayest suit of all,
and look