Mrs. Haskell dried her eyes with her kitchen apron, folded the letter, laid it with the post card, took a final pensive look at the photograph and clasped the heavy plush covers over all three. Then she sat down by the window and patted the dog with one thin hand while with the other she lifted the kitchen apron again to those poor old eyes. Thus they sat silently. It was just an echo, a faint, belated echo of the great war.... CHAPTER III A NEW ACQUAINTANCE To know something of the circumstances which caused this letter to reach Mrs. Haskell like a ghost out of the past, we shall have to betake ourselves to Bennett's Fresh Confectionery and Ice Cream Parlor on Main Street in Bridgeboro, New Jersey. And that is by no means a bad sort of place to begin, for Bennett had the genial habit of filling an ice cream cone so that the cream stood up on top like the dome on the court house in Bridgeboro, and extended down into the apex, packed tight and hard. It was long before the great sensation in Hicksville, and on a certain pleasant day early in vacation, that Roy Blakeley, leader of the Silver Fox Patrol, and several scouts of the First Bridgeboro Troop were lined up along Bennett's counter partaking of refreshment. To be exact, they had finished and were waiting for Walter, alias Pee-wee Harris to finish, for Pee-wee had the true scout thoroughness and went down to the very bottom of things. "How is it you boys aren't off camping this summer?" Mr. Bennett asked sociably, as he leaned against the fixtures behind the counter. "We should worry about camp this year," Roy said. "We've been fixing up our old railroad car for a meeting-place down by the river and we're going to stay home and earn some money to buy a rowboat and a canoe and start a kind of a camp of our own down there." "We're going to build a float," Pee-wee said, digging with his spoon. "Sure, and a sink," Roy said, "so we can wash our hands of Bridgeboro. We'll be dead to the world down there. We're going to lead the simple life like a lot of simps. We're going to catch salt fish in the salt marshes and everything. All we need is a treasury; you didn't happen to see one around anywhere, did you?" "If I should happen to see a treasury I'll let you know," Mr. Bennett laughed. "We need a standing capital," said Artie Van Arlen, leader of the Ravens. "We wouldn't care if it was lying down as long as we had it," Roy said. "We'd like some assessments," Pee-wee said. "You mean assets," Doc Carson laughed. "It's the same only different," said Roy. "What we want is a few standing capitals, and some small letters and a couple of surpluses." "Deficits are good; did you ever hear of those?" Pee-wee asked. "We need about eighty-five cents and fifty dollars," Roy said. "I guess we'll start a drive only we haven't got any horse. Maybe we can catch some goldfish down there and sell them for old gold. We should worry."