It was impossible to tell whether he was displeased or not. But Rob decided not to recede from his position. He knew that the Boy Scouts were supposed to be manly, self-reliant, and upright under all conditions. So putting his fears of offending the man before him aside, he spoke up boldly: "It's different for you, sir. Your life work has raised your monument; but I think, and I guess my Patrol agrees with me, that it is better for boys to be on active duty and," he added, his eyes flashing and his cheeks glowing, "especially such service as we are now going on. It's--it's glorious," he concluded breathlessly. "I think you are quite right, my boy," was the magnate's reply, a very different one from the rejoinder Rob had dreaded. "I hope you don't think me presumptuous or impudent," replied Rob, "but you asked my opinion, and you know, sir, we Boy Scouts must always tell the truth. Perhaps it seems a poor return after you saved our lives, to----" But Mr. Grant cut the boy short with a wave of the hand. "Nonsense, all I did was to stand by and watch. If Donald had not understood those smoke signals, you might not be on earth now. But in return, I want to ask you to do something for him." Rob nodded respectfully but said nothing. He wondered greatly what could be coming next. "I want you to take Donald with you on this duty for Uncle Sam. The ensign here has agreed. Are you willing to make my son one of your party?" "Are we willing?" stammered out Rob. "Why, sir, we've just been discussing what a shame it was that he had to go on a stupid old cruise--I beg your pardon, on a cruise--when real work lay ahead, and----" But Donald had danced up to his father cheering and throwing his hat in the air. Then he rushed up to his newly-found comrades and a hand-shaking and "bear hugging" match ensued, such as is rarely seen except among lads who are real companions, bound together by a common bond. Suddenly above the tumult Rob's voice sounded. "Boys, let's give the cry of the Wolf Patrol!" Instantly savage growls resounded, and after that the Eagles joined hands, formed a circle about Donald, and danced a sort of war dance of joy, concluding with the screaming cry of their Patrol. Mr. Grant and Ensign Hargreaves smilingly watched this scene. When something like order had been restored, the latter announced the closeness of the _Seneca_. This, too, was greeted with a cheer, which was cut short by the reappearance of Collins. "I've been talking with the _Seneca_, sir, and he says that they are proceeding here at full speed." "Good. That will do, unless you have any communications to make," said Mr. Grant, turning to the ensign. "No, sir, none whatever," was the reply.