It was little enough that poor Skinny knew about the unwise procedure of rich parents with their sons at camp. I dare say Chocolate Drop was right; there was too much pampering. Certainly no one had ever sent Skinny a grapefruit or a box of figs. Something in the little fellow's wistful look touched the kindly heart of Chocolate Drop, who reigned unquestioned monarch in the fragrant cook shack, and he made up an extra sandwich and handed it to him together with four cookies. "You watch out you don' get bit by dem rattlesnakes," he warned. Rattlesnakes were the terror of Chocolate Drop's life. "You jes' good as dat Clarkson son. Now you scamper off ter breakfast." But Skinny did not go to breakfast. He started up the hill, encouraged, elated. He was going to do business with a boy who had expressed a desire for a canoe, and whose people were so rich that they sent him figs and grapefruit. He did not know just exactly how he would approach such a boy; he dreaded this more than he had dreaded his swim across the lake. But, of course, rich boys could be talked to. He was not exactly afraid; he felt that luck had favored him thus far. He had lifted the white pennant and had been able thereby to conceal the real purpose of his absence at night. He had won the Hiawatha canoe. And now he was going to sell it to a boy who was so rich that he received delicacies by parcel post. That would be easy. Then he would hurry on up to the old shanty in the cut and give Danny the food and the money. After that he would, of course, worry about Danny's escape from the reform school. But at least the dangers at Temple Camp would be averted. On arriving at the cabin with the skunk skin tacked on the door, Skinny was astonished to find that it was the very cabin from which he had taken the white pennant. The place looked different in the daylight. He had not seen the skunk skin on his nocturnal raid, nor the quaintly worded sign above the door which read: THE ALLIGATORS OF ALLEGHANY But he saw clearly the hole from which he had so stealthily lifted the pennant staff. The Alligators had not gone down to breakfast; there were voices inside. He wondered whether his little masterstroke would leave them prejudiced against him. Hardly that, he realized, for scouts are good sports and cheerful losers. Perhaps they would even give him credit, as the saying is. He was not doubtful about scouts, but he was a little afraid of a rich boy. The voices inside were loud and angry; the occupants of the cabin seemed all talking at once and excitedly. "Awh, forget it, and come ahead down to eats, will you?" "I'm through," said another boy. "If you're talking of breakfast I haven't even started yet," said still another. "For the love of Mike, will you cut it out and come on down." "I'm through," said the boy who had made this pronouncement before. "All right, we're satisfied," another said. "Do you take back what you said?"