"Oh, well, we just have to, you see, if we ever expect to make good scouts," he replied, thinking that after all Elsie was even a little prettier than her chum, when she chose to smile on a fellow that way. "And besides, we pick up a lot of information from our scout master, and Elmer, who knows all about woodcraft, because he lived out on the big plains. But it must be getting near time for the start, because they're lining up now. Let's push ahead so we can see what happens." Despairing of getting away while the persistent little maid continued to seek information, Landy was now hedging, and content to carry her along with him as he pushed through the crowd of talking, laughing spectators. The clock in the church tower pointed to two minutes of six. And at the first stroke of the hour they were expected to be off. Six boys stood in line, eager and expectant. Their particular friends called out encouraging words, and there was a perfect babel of confusion about this time. But Mr. Garrabrant anticipating such a happening, had spoken the last words of caution. So that there was now nothing to be done but wait for the loud boom of the big clock in the tower. "Good luck, Lil Artha!" "Keep that good left foot of yours going right along, George!" "Red, we're counting on you to win out, remember!" "That's Ty Collins on the extreme left; just you watch his smoke!" "Take it easy, Matty! You know the rules of the game, old fellow!" "Jack, don't you ever come around again unless you bring that prize with you!" This last created a roar of laughter, as one of the scouts imitated the voice of a girl whom everyone knew Jack Armitage was sweet on. One minute of six! Gradually this clamor died down as the critical minute drew closer and closer. Many eyes were turned upon the big face of the clock on the side of the square tower of the church. "Ready, all!" they heard Mr. Garrabrant call out. Then came a deathly silence. Everyone craned his or her neck, and the figures of the six contestants who wore the khaki garments of the Boy Scouts proved to be the hub of all glances. Some of the boys looked grim and determined; others, like tall Lil Artha, wore confident smiles, as though they believed in their hearts that it would be an easy snap. But all were evidently primed to do their level best, no matter what the final result. Ah! There was a whirring sound up in the tower. Well did the boys know that the big clock always emitted this seeming gasp just before the striking of the hour. Then came a reverberating boom! It was time. "Hurrah!" yelled the crowd, as hats and handkerchiefs filled the air; "they're off!" "And may the best man win!" said the smiling scout master, looking after the fast walking line of contestants. CHAPTER IV. SIGNS OF TROUBLE. "LOOK at 'em all in a bunch!" cried one of the watchers; for the crowd had been particularly requested not to follow the six walkers or annoy them in the start.