One thing he wanted to do and that was to find Skinny. Poor Skinny, he would be relieved by the departure of this unconcerned young masquerader. In that two weeks he had obeyed Danny's order and not sought him out. He had smiled shyly on the two or three occasions when they had passed each other by and once at night, when all the scouts were at campfire, he had ventured down to the deserted Pioneer Row to have just a few words with his dubious hero if Danny were there. But he could not find him. "He's scared, because he thinks maybe I look like him," Skinny said to himself. As if he, Skinny, could look like that resourceful and daring adventurer! He had thought much about Danny, and worried about him, in those two weeks. Once he had seen a strange man coming along the path west of the storehouse holding a boy by the collar and he had been seized with panic fear that it was Danny in the clutch of the Blythedale authorities, until he saw that it was just a visiting parent indulging in pleasantries with his son. But Skinny was not to be found on that afternoon of Danny's sudden departure, and Danny took the trail around the lake without seeing him. He went that way because he wished to avoid villages and the open roads. The route was longer and much more difficult than that via the highroad, but he could get to Catskill without passing through Leeds. His intention was to hook a ride on a train to New York and then, having no money, to use his wits. But, of course, Danny never knew from one minute to another what he would do. So Holman Sharpe was able to proceed uninterrupted with his strenuous cramming in the interest of scouting. We should not be too severe with Holman. Realizing what Danny was doing for his sake, he tried to find him and insist that they tell Councilor Wainwright the truth. But Danny had already gone. That was the great thing about Danny, he was always as good as his word and acted promptly. Whether it was hitting a boy in the eye or making a sacrifice, it was all the same. He hated talk and posing. Thus baffled in his effort to make amends, Holman contented himself with the comfortable view that after all his "studies" were more important than the unprofitable loitering of a boy like Danny. Making good use of one's time was surely the paramount virtue, greater than generosity and sacrifice. We shall meet Holman again some day and it will be interesting to note how his studious concentration worked out. He cared more for scouting than he did for scouts.