As he wandered, fearful and conscience-stricken, down the wooded slope a thought came to him. There was a rich boy in camp, Helmer Clarkson. That boy wanted a canoe and had tried for the Hiawatha Prize--a fine canoe to win which a scout must swim across the lake. Helmer had started (according to rule) with a rowboat escort, and like many another hopeful candidate had returned in the boat. So Helmer had decided to fall back on the less heroic plan of asking his father to buy him a canoe. If he had not already done this, then Skinny had a plan. He would swim across the lake, win the canoe, and sell it to Helmer Clarkson. Then he would give the money to his erring brother. He knew the camp people would regard him contemptuously for selling a prize, but at least he could help Danny, and put an end to this dreadful thing that Danny was doing. All this might be done immediately--the next morning. The only difficulty would be that his comrades would laugh at him as soon as he proposed the heroic enterprise. Alas, they would not know how heroic it was! They would make a great joke of his trying for a prize--especially this prize. They would decline to accompany him with a boat. They would probably tell him, as they had so many times told him, that if he had to be taken into the boat it would probably sink it. Skinny weighed sixty-four pounds, not counting his heart, which weighed tons just now. Well, he thought as he trudged along, if Danny could do such wonderful (albeit dreadful) things, he, Skinny could do this. And it would straighten everything out. Perhaps he could even do it before Danny presented himself to the powers in Administration Shack and signed up. That would be between ten and eleven in the morning. He wondered if Helmer Clarkson had any ready money; surely he must have some. Fifteen dollars was all that Danny had demanded. He would sell the prize canoe to Clarkson for fifteen dollars. Well, that was settled and things were not so bad. As he passed down through the dark woods, he thought of his fugitive brother hiding in that little dank switchman's shanty. What would be the first thing he would do in the morning? Thus preoccupied with his thoughts, Skinny found himself approaching the cabin before which the white pennant flew. In there they would be sleeping with one eye open, as the saying is. If he could--if he only _could_--"lift" that pennant. What a glory for the Elks! It would raise him in their esteem; they might take him seriously. Then perhaps they would listen when he talked about trying for the Hiawatha Prize. He was elated; he believed that the whole situation was in his hands; Danny, all unknown to the camp, might be on his way in the morning. This whole business was not so bad after all.