"It's my dog," he told me, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes. "Somebody broke his leg with a stone and I've got to kill him. He's all I have." "A Scout should be kind to animals," I said to myself. "A Scout is a friend to all." "A Scout should be useful." Then I answered myself back. "What's the use? This ain't any damsel-in-distress business, like Skinny is going to do. Besides, if I hurry maybe I'll get a chance to signal to Benny from the turn in the road on ahead." "Come on and help me kill him," said he. Just then the dog gave such a pitiful whine that I couldn't stand it, Benny or no Benny. So I took out my bandage. "I think I can fix his leg, if you'll help me," I told him. "Get me a couple of sticks." I told him what I wanted, and when he had brought them and I had whittled them into shape to use as splints, I fitted the broken bones in place and bandaged the leg, just as Mr. Norton had taught us, while the boy held the dog. The dog yelped a little, but seemed to know that I was doing it to help him. "It will soon grow together," I said, when I had finished, "and then it will be almost as good as new." It made me feel kind of queer and happy to see how glad he was. The dog licked my hand, too, and seemed to be trying to say something. I wish dogs could talk. "How did you come to know so much?" he asked. "Is your father a doctor?" Then I told him all about the Scouts and our hike and what Mr. Norton had said about wanting the Gang to join. "Bully!" said he. "We'll do it. The others went up on the mountain this morning after berries. I'd have gone, too, only for the dog. But I'll tell them when they get home to-night." "Say," I called out, after I had started on. "You know Benny Wade, don't you?" "The kid what always goes around with youse?" I nodded. "Yes, I know him when I see him. Why?" "He'll come through here this evening some time, on his way back from North Adams. Let him look at the dog and see if he is all right. He knows as much about those things as I do. Bill Wilson ought to be along some time during the day on his way back. He started yesterday. Say, you ought to see Bill do up a leg." Nothing happened after that, although I kept close watch of the river, hoping that I might find somebody drowning. Some boys were in swimming at one place, but they were not drowning nor anywhere near it. I could have reached North Adams easily long before noon, if I had wanted to, but I had all day to do it in, so loafed along, expecting to meet Bill every minute. I rested in the shade whenever I felt like it. But although I did a lot of cawing every few minutes and kept a sharp look-out, I didn't see Bill, and I didn't hear him, which I couldn't understand, unless he had taken the east road home to keep away from the Gingham Grounds.