So we left him in the tent and told him to read the Handbook, but to be sure to go home and get his supper in time to be at the meeting that evening. We made him the full salute just for fun, and oh, didn’t he smile and look proud. I bet he was proud going up Main Street too. “I’d like to get my hands on that kid,” I said to Westy, as we went across the lawn; “he makes me sick with his heroes and his noble rags and his belt-axes. He’s got that poor kid’s brain full of fancy stuff before he’s even a scout.” “That’s just like him,” Westy said, “but he’ll get over it.” “_Emblem of the woods!_” I said. “Did you hear that?” “I guess he told Skinny we were going to chop down some saplings to-morrow for stanchions on the boat,” Westy said. “Goodness knows what he didn’t tell him,” I said, “Skinny will be chopping down all the fence rails in Barrel Alley if Pee-wee has his way.” Oh, boy, we had huckleberry pie for supper, and didn’t Westy and I have two helpings! “There’s only one thing scouts like about huckleberry pie,” my father said, “and that’s the taste of it.” CHAPTER XXI SOMETHING MISSING After supper Westy and I started for troop meeting. It was getting dark fast and we went scout-pace down the hill, because after all that had happened you bet we didn’t want to be late. No, siree. All the while we were talking about just what I ought to say when I presented Skinny to the Elks, because that’s what we were going to do that night. And I was the one to do it, because I was patrol leader. Westy had a blue ribbon, because that’s the Elks’ color, and he was going to pin it on Skinny with an express tag that he got that day. He had it all written nice and neat on the tag. From the Silver Foxes to the Elks. Handle with Care. I told him to put prepaid on it, too, and then he said it would be a good idea to put some thrift stamps on Skinny’s face. Jiminy, that fellow Westy has some crazy ideas. “Believe me, it’ll be great,” he said. “The Elks will have some training to do, that’s one thing,” I said. “He’ll learn soon enough, all right,” Westy answered. “I guess it would be a good stunt to have a flag sticking up out of his collar,” I said; “he won’t mind, he’ll just smile. He doesn’t get mad, that’s one good thing about him.” “I like to see that smile, don’t you?” Westy said, “it’s kind of bashful like.” “He’s going to pan out all right,” I said, “you take it from me.” Then we said how it might be good to put him in a barrel and mark it “_A gift from Barrel Alley_,” but we decided not to because it might make him feel so kind of bashful and scared—you know what I mean. All the while I knew what I was going to say, and this was it: