style="font-size:15px;"> 'Then they'll meet them without me!' burst out Arthur Graydon, his face scarlet with rage, for he had quite expected to carry the patrol with him. 'I shan't be patrol-leader any longer!'
He whipped off his badge and flung it on the table, and was gone before anyone could stop him or remonstrate with him. He snatched his cap from the stand in the hall, and was out of the house in a flash. The Wolf Patrol had lost their leader!
'That's Arthur all over,' murmured Billy Seton. 'He's frightfully shirty. But I didn't think he'd hook it.'
'Oh, he'll think better of it when he's cooler,' said Mr. Elliott. 'We'll get on with our game. But I'll say that I'm quite with you in your decision.'
'Half a minute, please,' said Reggie Parr, flushing to the roots of his hair. 'I'm going to come out into the open. The other cross was mine. But I don't want to leave the patrol.'
'You needn't leave it, old man,' cried Billy Seton. 'We should be jolly sorry to lose you.'
'I'll run with the rest,' jerked out Reggie. 'But I shouldn't like to stop and keep quiet about the cross.'
'It's forgiven! It's forgotten! Come to my arms!' sang out Billy, and pretended to embrace his comrade as a lost sheep returning to the fold. This caused much laughter, and the Wolf Patrol, save for their lost leader, were completely reunited, and plunged into Kim's game with great earnestness.
CHAPTER VIII
THE PATROL-LEADERS
A few days later Dick Elliott was standing outside a shop in Bardon High Street waiting for his sister, who was inside. He was on his way to a party, and so was dressed in full fig, a thing he hated very much, but had to put up with on such occasions.
Presently a second boy came along the pavement towards him. It was Chippy, with a big bundle under his right arm. Chippy looked at the smart figure staring into the shop-window, and recognised it.
'One o' them Wolf toffs,' thought Chippy. 'I wish I'd a chance to slug 'im now. I'd soon knock 'is top-'at in the gutter.'
The vengeful Chippy was staring at Dick's glossy silk hat and irreproachable gloves, when Dick looked up straight into the other boy's face. At the next moment Chippy was taken utterly aback, for Dick stepped forward and gave him the full salute. Chippy could scarcely believe his own eyes when he thus received the honours of a patrol-leader.
But he tucked his bundle between his legs, for the pavement was dirty, returned the salute, and proffered his left hand.
'Wot cheer, brother!' murmured Chippy in his husky whisper, for he could think of no more appropriate salutation.
'Oh, I'm all right,' said Dick. 'How are the Ravens getting on?'
'Peggin' away,' returned Chippy. 'We done most o' the things out o' them books.'
'Ah!' said Dick. 'Now about that challenge. When would you like to try a friendly turn against us?'
'Any Sat'day arternoon,' cried Chippy eagerly. 'Yer would meet us, then? Yer leader ain't agin us now?'
'Well, it isn't the same leader,' replied Dick. 'The leader you saw has left us. We tried to get him to come back, but he wouldn't come. I'm the leader now.'
'Good, good!' said Chippy gleefully. 'Wot about nex' Sat'day at three, up at yer sandpit?'
'Yes, I think I can arrange for that,' returned Dick.
'We'll be there, an' proud to come,' said Chippy, whose face shone again with pride and satisfaction. 'An' we'll put up the best we know to gie yer a good practice.'
'We shall get all the practice we want if there are a few more like you among the Ravens,' laughed Dick.
'A bit of luck,' said Chippy modestly, 'that wor all. Well, I must get on. I'm in a job now, an' goin' on an errand. An' when yer at work, there's Law 2 to reckon with – playin' a straight game wi' yer boss.' So the patrol-leaders gave each other the full salute, and each went their way, for Dick's sister was now waiting for him.
'Who's your friend, Dick?' asked his sister. 'He looks like a ragged errand-boy.'
'That's just what he is,' replied Dick; 'but he is also a brother scout, and so I was doing the civil.'
'Good gracious!' said his sister. 'I didn't know boys like that were in it.'
'They run in all shapes,' replied Dick, 'as long as they run straight.'
CHAPTER IX
THE WOLVES AND THE RAVENS
On the next Saturday afternoon, accordingly, the Wolf and Raven Patrols fraternized in the old sandpit on the heath, and Mr. Elliott attended as umpire. The boys were far from being strangers to each other, for they had often met before in a slugging match, but all such foolish old feuds were laid aside, and they prepared eagerly for a friendly struggle in this most fascinating sport of scouting.
'Now, Slynn,' said Mr. Elliott to the leader of the Ravens, 'as your scouts are the visitors, I think you ought to have the choice of the game at which to challenge the Wolf Patrol.'
'Well, sir,' said Chippy, 'wot about "Scout meets Scout"? I think that 'ud suit us, if it 'ud suit the Wolves.'
'Yes,' said Mr. Elliott, 'that would give you some good fun. And, as it happens, that is a game I have been thinking over. I believe you would enjoy it better still if you combined it with hunting. You've all got a ball apiece, haven't you?'
Yes, everybody had a ball of some sort, and all were listening eagerly to the instructor. Mr. Elliott drew a small parcel from his pocket, and opened it. Inside there were sixteen little flags – eight yellow and eight black.
'You see, I am prepared with your patrol colours,' he said. 'The truth is, I was intending to suggest this game myself as one to be taken. Now, let every scout fix a flag in his hat.'
The Wolves took the yellow, and the Ravens took the black, and the flags were fixed.
'The next thing,' said Mr. Elliott, 'is full trot for the Beacon;' and away they all went.
The Beacon was a small hill which rose sharply from the heath, and stood quite alone. It was not very high, perhaps a hundred feet, but from the top you could see far over the heath on every side. In old days a beacon-fire had been lighted on it to warn or arouse the country in times of danger; a fire had burned there when the Spanish Armada came.
The scouts swarmed up the side, and raced each other to the top. Then they gathered once more about the umpire.
'Now,' said Mr. Elliott, 'here's my idea of "Scout meets Scout." The Wolves will go to that patch of burnt gorse which is about half a mile east of the Beacon. The Ravens will go to that big oak which is about half a mile west. Those are the boundaries, and no one must pass them. North and south the land becomes open quite close to us, and nobody may go out there. It isn't likely he would wish to, for he would be seen at once. When I blow my whistle, the two sides will begin to work towards each other, and the hunt opens. The scout who strikes an enemy with his ball captures that enemy's flag. The flag is handed over, and the beaten scout comes up at once to report to me on the Beacon. He is dead, and will leave the contest. That patrol wins which finally captures the whole of the flags belonging to the other patrol.'
'But,
