“You said it,” vociferated Pee-wee. It was so seldom that any one ever gave unqualified approval of his schemes that he felt highly elated at Beech’s spirit of ready cooperation. “It was an—an inspiration,” he said. “Some idea,” said Beech. “How long do you think it’ll take?” Pee-wee asked. “Oh, I don’t know; short runs are best, that’s what _I_ think.” “That’s what I think, too,” said Pee-wee. “You see each scout has got to find another before he comes back—” “Sure,” Pee-wee interrupted; “he has to show resource, that’s another good thing about it. And it’ll be a lot of fun because it’ll be kind of—you know—it’ll be kind of like a—a grab-bag sort of, because I don’t know what I’m going to get.” “You might get a lemon,” mused Beech. “Scouts aren’t lemons,” Pee-wee shouted. “Anyway, the one that reaches me has to take a good hike before he gets there, hasn’t he? So that’ll prove he’s all right, won’t it? Gee whiz, I feel sorry for the others, but I can’t help it, can I? They’ll have adventures hiking, won’t they?” “Oh sure, leave it to them.” “That’s what _I_ say,” Pee-wee agreed. “I was just thinking,” Beech mused, “I’ve got to make test four for the first-class badge—” “I know that one,” Pee-wee interrupted, excitedly, “you’ve got to make a round-trip to a point seven miles away, that’s fourteen miles, and you’ve got to have a witness and you’ve got to write a satisfactory account of it when you get back; I passed that one. My scoutmaster said the hike I took was seven miles long and the account I wrote of it was seven miles long. Anyway, I believe in giving good measure, don’t you?” “Sure thing. I was just wondering when you showed up whether going round and round and round with a lawn-mower would be a round-trip—” “It’s a teckinality,” said Pee-wee. “I bet I’ve pushed that little old lawn-mower seven miles this morning,” said Beech, “and you see that way I don’t have to make a trip seven miles and back, because I’m always back; it’s a good idea. Do you think I could get away with that?” “Nnnnooo!” with the authority of one who knew the scout law. “Because how about a witness?” “I thought of that,” said Beech; “there’s a hop-toad on the lawn, I’ve passed him a dozen times; he must have seen everything.” “It’s got to be a brother scout,” Pee-wee said; “hop-toads don’t count. Anyway, you really don’t have to have a witness.” “Sure of that?” “Sure, I’m sure,” said Pee-wee. “Well then,” said Beech, “why couldn’t I take care of the first relay, seven miles and back? I’ll trot up to Haverstraw and give them good measure.” “Gee whiz,” said Pee-wee, “I like you. I wish you were going to be at Temple Camp.” “I’m on the wrong end of the line,” said Beech. “I bet that’s a pretty nifty place up there. Bathing and everything?”