“And there’s only one thing more I’ve got to say,” I told them. “I got on the trail—I mean Skinny’s trail. And it took me to his house in Barrel Alley. I picked up his trail down at Little Landing and it had the scout’s pathfinder sign printed in the mud. And I—I’m—I’m a scout, I am, I don’t care what you say, and I followed it. And maybe, for all you know, it was put there for me to follow—maybe. It took me to where a fellow was sick, it did, and it showed me one of my own—one of the Silver Foxes, doing a good turn to pay Skinny back for the good turn he did for me. And I stayed there to help and I forgot all about the house-boat, and I’m glad I did. And I hope that whoever these fellows elect, he won’t let them chip in for the cruise, but I hope he’ll have them chip in to send Skinny up to the country—I don’t care what the doctor says. Once a doctor said that—he said that my father——” And that’s all I had a chance to say. Gee, I couldn’t tell you what happened next. All I know is, I heard my Scout Handbook go kerflop on the floor and Vic Norris of the Ravens grabbed the Silver Fox emblem right out of my hand and began waving it. All of a sudden I saw Westy and he didn’t say anything only put his arm around my shoulder and he started to say something and, oh, I don’t know, he just couldn’t. Then I heard a fellow asking him what was the matter, because he was husky, kind of, and his eyes shiny—you know. And he said he had a cold. Oh, boy! “He caught cold from drinking out of a damp glass,” Doc Carson shouted. Honest, you couldn’t hear yourself think. And Pee-wee—g-o-o-d night! Then Mr. Ellsworth held up his hand and we all quieted down. “Before we go any further,” he said, “and while our lungs are working overtime I want every member of the Raven Patrol and every member of the Elk Patrol to give three cheers for the Silver Foxes, scouts, _real_ scouts, every one of them, and for their leader, Roy Blakeley. After that you can hold your election.” CHAPTER XIX THE END OF THE MEETING Oh, boy, some excitement! “Excuse me while I blush,” I said. For they were all shouting and Pee-wee was on top of the table dancing and yelling, “_Hurrah for the Solid Silver Foxes! Three cheers for the Sterling Silver Foxes!_” Believe me, that kid is self-starting, but he isn’t self stopping. Then I told them that I had something more to say, and they shouted it was their turn to do the saying, and believe me, they did—with something left over. At last Mr. Ellsworth got us throttled down and he told me to say what I had to say, because Mr. Bennett had a word or two for us. So I told them my idea that I’d had in my head all the time, and you just wait and see how many adventures it led to. That’s one good thing about good turns; they most always start something. Already Pee-wee was started.