"Can you beat it?" Roy asked. "If the world should come to an end, he'd sure be the first one there. Jiminies, Ralph, don't be sore, it wasn't Sharpy hitting you, it was the Scout Handbook." "Sure," laughed Warde. "I understand," Ralph agreed. "Gee, that feller must be crazy." "He's troubled with static," said Roy; "come on, let's beat it." None of the three of them had the least notion that Florida, as they called him, was deliberately posing as the culprit. Councilor Wainwright's threatened warning had never appeared on the bulletin board and the three Silver Foxes did not apprehend any very serious sequel to the little affair. They supposed that the councilor did not intend to take notice of it; certainly not to act upon it at that time. They inferred that he wished to see Danny about something else, and encountering him by chance, had asked him to go along. That was the way they saw it, and they thought no more about it. Or if they did, it was in a way of humorous dismay at Holman Sharpe's unexpected conduct. You may say they were not ideal scouts. You may, if you choose, say that Holman was a true scout. Those are matters of opinion. In any event, Roy and his comrades cherished no malice. "Only there ought to be a badge for that," said Roy; "the slugger's badge. Otherwise, Sharpy will think he wasted his time. Forget it. He saw his duty and he did it nobly. I hope young Snoopy, the boy councilor, forgets it." But Councilor Wainwright was very far from forgetting it. En route to Administration Shack he said what he had to say and it was a model of cordial brevity. "Well, my boy, you'd better pack up and get started; you know what I told you. And we won't have any explanations, eh? It seems you and I don't understand each other--no hard feelings. Maybe we'll hear of you as a heavyweight champion some day. Let's see, you were paid up for the month, I think?" "That'll be O.K," said Danny. "What was it, another one on the eye?" the councilor asked cheerily, as he hurried along. You would have thought him a fight fan. "N--not so good," said Danny, "I've done better." "Well, now you see Temple Camp can make good its threats too." "Fifty-fifty," said Danny. "Don't aim unless you'll shoot." "That's the idea," said the Councilor, in great good humor. Danny rather liked this man who was as good as his word; he had a sportsman's respect for him. For Danny was always as good as his word. Scout or not, he was that.