“Then what makes you feel so mean about it?” I asked him. “What makes you ask me about a little sound like a cricket? It’s because you’re kind of rattled and you’re not sure, that’s why. Once a murderer went and confessed after hearing a cricket all night. Maybe you don’t know that it’s in a book how crickets start your conscience—maybe you don’t. Listen!” He said, “You mean you’ll tell and you won’t help me?” “No, I won’t tell,” I said, “and I _will_ help you. I’ll help you to put the Church Mice on their feet. I’ll help you to give that scoutmaster a good welcome. I’ll help you to fix it so those poor little codgers all have uniforms. I’ll help you to fix it so you can look Harry Donnelle in the face—and Mr. Ellsworth, when you see him. And Tom Slade. And if it’s a case of sneaking, I’ll help you with that too. We’ll make those fellows think that _they_ discovered Jib Jab, otherwise satisfactory, you can go and ask Harry Donnelle they’d never take the reward. And if that isn’t if it’s all right for you to get the reward. And if he says yes, I’ll say so too. I bet he has no use for motorcycles anyway.” Dorry didn’t say anything, only just stood there. “What do you say?” I asked him. He didn’t answer me. “What do you say—Dorry?” I asked him. “How does a cricket make that sound, anyway?” he asked. “I should worry about how he makes it,” I told him. He just said, “Funny, isn’t it?” CHAPTER XXVII WE TAKE HARRY INTO OUR CONFIDENCE One thing, I wouldn’t let anybody talk against Dorry Benton. Even I wouldn’t have told you about that, only he said it was all right. I knew all the time that he would never cheat those fellows out of their reward. He didn’t say anything more that night, but in the morning he came after me when I went to get sticks for the fire, and then I knew everything was all right. He said, “You and I are the only ones that know who Jib Jab is. What are we going to do about it? And another thing, would it be all right for scouts to take a reward like that? Something for a service?” “Sure it would be all right,” I told him; “something for a service means tips and things like that. Scouts can take presents and win rewards, I hope. Didn’t Pee-wee win an extra helping of pie up at camp for keeping still all through dinner? Mr. Ellsworth said it was all right.” Gee, Dorry couldn’t answer that argument. “You should worry about it’s being all right,” I said; “but, oh boy, if we make a mistake we’ll spoil everything. We have to watch our step. We’ve just got to make Brent Gaylong discover that fellow without any help. If we don’t, _good night!_ he’ll never claim the reward. I know that fellow.” “Maybe we’d better tell Harry Donnelle,” Dorry said. “That’s just what I was thinking,” I told him; “because maybe he can think of a way.”