"And if you fellows hadn't held that fire line you wouldn't have seen him and we might have been burnt or suffocated in the willows," I claimed back. So what seems a failure or a bother, when you're trying your best, often is the most important thing of all, or helps make the chain complete. But now we didn't take much time to explain to each other or to swap yarns; for the twilight was gone and the dark was closing in, and we weren't in the best of shape. The burro Apache was packed with bedding, mostly, which was a good thing, of course; the Red Fox Scouts had their outfit; but we Elks were short on grub. That piece of bacon and just the little other stuff carried by the Major Henry party were our provisions. Fitz and the poor general were making a hungry camp, when we had discovered them. And then there was the general, laid up. "What's the matter with you, kid?" queried the Ranger. "Sprained ankle, I think." "That's sure bad," sympathized the Ranger. And it sure was. "Boys, I'll have to be traveling for that cabin of mine, to report about the fire and this man," said the Ranger, after listening to our talk for a minute. "If you're grub-shy, some of you had better come along and I'll send back enough to help you out." That was mighty nice of him. And the general spoke up, weakly. "How far is the cabin, please?" "About three miles, straight across." "If I could make it, could I stay there a little while?" "Stay a year, if you want to. We'll pack you over, if you'll go. Can you ride?" "All right," said the general. "I'll do it. Now, you fellows, listen. Major Henry, I turn the command and the message over to you. I'm no good; I can't travel and we've spent a lot of time already, and I'd be only a drag. So I'll drop out and go over to that cabin, and you other Scouts take the message." Oh, we didn't want to do that! Leave the general? Never! "No, sir, we'll take you along if we have to carry you on our backs," we said; and we started in, all to talk at once. But he made us quit. "Say, do I have to sit here all night while you chew the rag?" grumbled the beaver man. But we didn't pay attention to _him_. "It doesn't matter about me, whether I go or not, as long as we get that message through," answered the general, to us. "I can't travel, and I'd only hold you back and delay things. I'll quit, and the rest of you hustle and make up for lost time." "I'll stay with you. This is Scout custom: two by two," spoke up little Jed Smith. He was the general's mate. "Nobody stays with me. You all go right on under Corporal Henry." "It'll be plumb dark before we get to that cabin," grumbled the beaver man. "This ain't any way to treat a fellow who's been stuck and then burnt. I'm tired o' sittin' on this hoss with my toes out." "Well, you can get off and let this other man ride. I'll hobble you and he can lead you," said the Ranger. "What's the matter with the burro?" growled the beaver man. He wasn't so anxious to walk, after all.