"Do we start on again now?" asked Nat, who was opening and shutting his hands nervously in a way that might have excited the scout leader's suspicions had he been able to notice the movement. "Yes, we're going to set the stage now for the last little scene in this act of the drama entitled the Great Hike Conspiracy," chuckled Elmer. "That sounds good to me," murmured Nat. "Go on, Elmer, and tell us just what you want us all to do," urged Lil Artha. "First of all, you are to start on again, just as before, Lil Artha." "Yes, I get that all right," replied the tall lad. "And the rest of us will shadow you," Elmer continued. "I don't quite understand what you mean, Elmer; will you keep a certain distance behind me all the time?" Lil Artha asked. "You can make up your mind that we'll be close enough every minute to hear you whistle steadily as you trudge along," came the reassuring reply. "And that means you'll get on to what they say to me when they show their hand: eh, Elmer?" "Just what it does, Lil Artha," the leader answered. "Fact is, I want to hear that little dialogue or conversation the worst way. Because, you see, we may have to repeat this story a few times later on, and we'd like to be able to have it all down pat." "Well, what happens then after they show their teeth?" questioned the tall boy. "You make up your mind which one of the lot you like best, and hang on to him with tooth and nail, as if you thought he was your long-lost brother. Get that, Lil Artha?" Elmer continued. "I understand," came the reply. "You want me to count for one hold-up, so as to leave the other three to you fellows?" "Well, you wouldn't be greedy, would you, and cheat us out of all the fun, after we've come all this long way, and risked breaking out necks time and time again?" remarked Nat, reproachfully. "He understands, Nat," remarked Elmer, pouring oil on the troubled waters as he frequently did when little frictions arose in the khaki troop. "And there's no need of wasting any more time. Be off, Lil Artha, and success to you." "Same here, fellows," came the merry reply; "and more power to your elbow, Nat"; from which last remark it was very evident that Lil Artha knew full well the impulsive character of the Scott boy, and how his desire to engage in "scraps" had not as yet been wholly tamed down by his becoming a scout in good standing. Nat's father was the principal of the public schools in Hickory Ridge; and from the time that Nat started to attend he had possibly given the professor as much trouble as any lad in the whole town. Not that Nat was naturally bad, but his quick temper, and readiness to use his fists to settle argument, had drawn him into innumerable scrapes. Accordingly, Lil Artha once more started along the darkening road, swinging out with those long strides which his length made possible.