'It ain't outside anything,' murmured Chippy. 'What!' said young Blades. 'You don't mean to say you'd do the same if it happened again, do you? Do you want to lose your job?' Chippy stood aghast. Lose his precious four-and-six a week! 'No, no,' cried Chippy; 'I'll do anything. I'll work as long as yer like--I'll come at six if yer like, an' stop till any time at night. Don't tek' me job off o' me.' 'Well, if you want to keep it, you must do as you're told,' began Larry, but his father out in. 'There's a lot of talk,' he cried, 'but I want you to notice, Larry, that that boy is dodging the question all the time. He's given no promise to do his best by us, and he ain't going to give any promise, either.' 'All right,' said Larry. 'I'll come bang straight to the point. If we send you out, Slynn, with a bit o' salmon that looks sweet and smells sweet, will you swear to a customer as it's dead fresh, and can't be bettered?' Chippy was cornered. On one side his job--his precious job--how precious none could know unless they knew his starved and narrow home; on the other his oath as a boy scout to run straight and play fair to all men. 'Now, speak out,' cried Larry impatiently. But Chippy--poor Chippy!--had seen an ideal in his rough, hard life, and he clung to it. 'Yer see,' he began once more, 'I'm a boy scout----' The fishmonger was bubbling mad all the time; now he completely boiled over. 'There he goes again!' yelled Mr. Blades. 'If he's a boy scout, let him clear out o' this, and scout round for another job. Now, then, shift, and look sharp about it.' But Chippy was unwilling to go. He was searching his mind for words with which to plead, and to promise to do his utmost for them, save for the breaking of his scout's oath, when the furious fishmonger sprang upon him, tore the bag he still held from his grasp, and literally threw him out of the shop. Taken by surprise, Chippy was pitched headlong, and went sprawling along the pavement. He picked himself up without a word, and went away down the street. His job had gone, and he knew it, and he stayed not another moment for vain pleading. 'Just hark at him!' cried the fuming Mr. Blades; 'the impident young dog! Got the sack, and goes off whistling!' 'Well, I'm blest!' said Larry, and nodded his head thoughtfully. 'I thought he was dead keen on his job. But he don't care a rap about it. He was only a-kiddin' us. Whistling like a lark!' Poor Chippy! how sorely was he misjudged! The fishmonger and his son knew nothing of Scout Law 8: 'A scout smiles and whistles under all circumstances,' and 'under any annoying circumstances you should force yourself to smile at once, and then whistle a tune, and you will be all right.'