“I don’t see why you want to be going around getting people arrested, anyway,” said Wilfred, his wholesome good-humor persisting. “Not if they do something they got a right not to do?” “No, I don’t think I’d bother.” “Do you call yourself a scout?” “Well, a kind of a one,” Wilfred laughed. “If I was in your patrol, I’d get a scout suit because they’ve all got them and that’s a good patrol.” “You bet it is,” said Wilfred. “Then why don’t you get one?” “Well, you see I’m not with them very much, so it isn’t noticed.” “You’re with me and I’ve got one.” “Well, you see,” said Wilfred, still amused, “you’ve got a suit and no patrol and I’ve got a patrol and no suit.” “I’d rather have a suit, wouldn’t you?” Archie asked. His lack of humor seemed almost ghastly by contrast with Wilfred’s amiable and funny squint at things. “Not than my patrol.” “Your patrol think they’re smart because they’ve got the Emblem of the Single Eye, don’t they?” “Can we get arrested for that?” Wilfred asked. “Are they mad at you, your patrol?” “Not that I know of.” “They’d never get the banner away from me if I had it, because I sleep in the dormitory and I’d stand it right near my cot and I’d tie a string to it and tie the string to my foot. I thought of that, isn’t it a good idea?” “It’s a good idea but it’s against the rule,” laughed Wilfred. “Maybe you’d get arrested.” “You couldn’t get me arrested for that. You couldn’t even get me a black mark for it.” “Well, I don’t want to get anybody any black marks,” said Wilfred. “Because you know you couldn’t.” “Well then, I’m glad I couldn’t.” “Does your father send you money? I bet my father sends me more than yours does.” “My father is dead, so you’re right again.” “My father’s got a big hotel on a mountain. He sends me five dollars every week. Rich people come to that hotel. Don’t they send you any money, your people?” “My sister sent me five dollars,” said Wilfred. It was loyalty to his home and his sister that prompted him to say this, the same fine delicacy of honor that caused him to keep his promise to his mother and to do this without even a secret sulkiness in his heart. If his heart was to be favored at a tragic cost, at least it was a heart worth favoring. “Haven’t you got any brother?” Archie asked. “No; I had one before I was born—I guess I can’t say that, can I? I would have had one only he was kidnapped and I guess they killed him because my father wouldn’t give them all the money they wanted.” “If I got kidnapped when I was a kid, my father he’d have given them a million dollars.” That seemed a rather high price to pay for Archie Dennison; still what he said might have been true. CHAPTER XIII GRAY WOLF