They hesitated a moment while they took in the quiet, dignified scene within. Portly old Judge Sledge was sitting well forward in his office chair with his spectacles pushed back upon his bald head, while Doctor Cranfield and several gentlemen whom Danny knew only by sight were grouped about him. All were in the attitude of listening intently to a man who stood before them--Mr. Gordon. Danny's quick glance took in all this, including the background of khaki-clad Whippoorwills, plastered against the wall beyond. The gentlemen rose, on the entrance of Mrs. Harding, and the scouts crowded forward to whisper excitedly to Danny. But Danny did not have time to listen to them, for Doctor Cranfield--taking him by his good arm--turned him about, and said to the company: "This is the boy." There was an agonizing moment to Danny in which he realized that everybody in the room was looking at him. Then he had to be introduced. It was very, very trying, for each man to whom Danny gave his hand in greeting looked him over from head to foot, and made embarrassingly personal, if kindly, remarks about him. "He was a small chap for the job." "He ought to be _red-headed_." "He was his mother's son." Danny looked across the group into his mother's eyes and caught there an expression which he was never to forget. And she was smiling--in spite of the tear-mist over her beautiful eyes--she was smiling. When they resumed their seats, there returned upon the group the touch of ceremonial quiet and earnestness which the entrance of the newcomers had for the moment dispelled. Mr. Gordon took a chair behind Mrs. Harding and explained to her and Danny in a low tone that the session was nearly over. Judge Sledge had been compelled to convene the court earlier than the appointed hour. The other men were talking apart. Presently, one of them turned to the Scout Master and said: "Following what you have just related, Mr. Gordon--do you think that it was quite wise in your patrol leader to send out a mere tenderfoot on a really dangerous commission?" Mr. Gordon was about to reply, when McKenzie stepped forward and saluted. "May I answer that?" he asked. The court assented, and all turned to hear. "Our private advices had been," began McKenzie, with his Indianlike figure drawn up to its full height, "that it was Camelback Mountain which was under suspicion. We located our camp on a parallel range, and miles from the suspected vicinity. Mr. Gordon and I and several of the older boys were later to take in hand the serious work of Camelback, but we thought it well to give the others a little experience. I had not intended to employ the tenderfoot till I overheard the boys teasing him. I sent him to the Death Head to redeem himself in his own eyes and in theirs." "Please, may I speak?" Biddie Burton had come forward eagerly. With the permission of the judge, Biddie hurried on: