"I'll tell him," another volunteered. "You know we had the white pennant up here--we took it away from that Virginia troop over near Turtle Cove. Each one of us is supposed to stay awake forty minutes every night and listen. Last night our little sleeping beauty--_that's him_--falls asleep at the switch. Somebody walked away with the pennant. We even knew somebody was hanging around, because just a little while before that I sneaked out and caught a fellow nosing about. On top of that Sweet-dream Ellie has to go to sleep when his turn was on. And--listen, get this--when we jump very gently on his neck he gets sore and says he won't play any more." During the recital of this indictment, Helmer Clarkson held himself aloof in silent dignity. "I'm through with the scouts for good," said he. "It was only an experiment anyway. But I certainly do love canoing----" "Sure, in the bathtub," interrupted one of the boys. "_Chief Dead-to-the-world_ sailing down the Alleghany River," mocked another. "If it wasn't for my leaving," said Helmer, ignoring them, "I'd be only too glad to buy your canoe. I'd have given you more than fifteen dollars for it." Skinny looked from one to the other of this cheery group; they seemed an interesting patrol, notwithstanding their family disturbance. Then his eyes fell on Helmer Clarkson in a woebegone, incredulous gaze. He realized that by his own act of "lifting" the pennant he had effectually prevented the sale of the canoe. If he had not stolen up in the dead of night, so softly that the dozing Helmer never heard him, he might now have fifteen dollars--thirty perhaps--with which to speed his erring brother forth to safety. What a tragic word is IF! CHAPTER XII SCOUT LAW NUMBER TWO He had taken the white pennant. He had won the Hiawatha Prize. He had brought glory to his patrol. But all he had to give Danny was two sandwiches and four cookies. Hero though he was, he could not face his colleagues, for he had no scout suit to put on. So long as there was hope of selling the canoe, he had not considered what his patrol would think of this. He had thought only of Danny. But now, as he trudged on up through the woods, a forlorn little fellow, he wondered what Connie and the others would say when they heard that he had tried to sell the prize canoe. They would certainly hear that, and he could not tell them why he had attempted such an unscoutlike business. There was never any buying and selling of prizes at Temple Camp. He trudged up through the woods, cautiously looking back now and then. It seemed to him a very long time since he had seen Danny, so much had happened in the meantime. He found him sitting on the shelf in the shanty, his knees drawn up to form a reading desk on which the Scout Handbook lay open.