"Well, then, I guess you'll have to keep still," laughed Mr. Ellsworth, "for there isn't much defense. I did all I could for Tom," he added, more soberly. "If his three years of scouting didn't teach him to keep his word with me as I always kept mine with him, it must have been to no purpose. He might have waited a little, kept his solemn promise, and gone into the army under the same honorable conditions as you did," he said, turning to the soldier; "and we should all have----" "What's the matter?" exclaimed Roy. [Illustration: THE LAST THEY SAW OF TOM, HE WAS CLINGING TO ONE OF THE FLAPPING DOORS, HIS FOOT BRACED AGAINST A CABLE CLEAT. Page 174] Roscoe Bent had thrown his chair back and without so much as excusing himself had stridden over to the bay window, where he stood holding the curtain aside and looking out. "What is it--reveille?" the scoutmaster laughed. "May I smoke a cigarette?" Roscoe asked nervously. "Uncle Sam hasn't cured you of that, has he?" Mr. Ellsworth laughed. "Sure; go ahead." The soldier's abrupt movement seemed to terminate the little after-dinner chat, and Mrs. Ellsworth, bent on other duties perhaps, or possibly foreseeing that her husband wished to "talk business," arose also and left the three to themselves. "I--er--don't smoke as much as I did," said Roscoe; "but sometimes--er--a cigarette sort of pulls you together. What--what were you going to say?" He returned and sat down again at the table. "Why, nothing in particular," said Mr. Ellsworth, "except this: I want you to drive home to these boys of mine this lesson of obedience, this necessity for respecting a promise above all things, and of obeying an order from one whom they've promised to obey. You get me?" "I--I think I do." "This meeting which we're holding in conjunction with the Y. M. C. A. to-morrow night is the last one before I go away myself. When I heard you were going to be home from camp over the week-end, it just popped into my head that I'd ask you to come around and give the boys a spiel. They've all got a great admiration for you, Roscoe. I suppose it's because your uniform becomes you so well. You make a pretty fine-looking soldier. Anybody tell you that?" "Miss--Margaret Ellison, in the Temple Camp office, was kind enough to hint as much," admitted Roscoe humorously. He did look pretty handsome in his new khaki. He had a figure as straight as an arrow and a way of holding his head and carrying himself with the true soldier air. Besides, his blond, wavy hair, always attractive, seemed to harmonize with his brown uniform, and his blue eyes had a kind of dancing recklessness in them. "All the boys have promised to be there--the Methodist Troop, the East Bridgeboro Troop, and mine----" "Which is the best of all," put in Roy. Roscoe laughed merrily. "We'll have the Y. M. C. A. boys and three full troops as well." "Except for Tom," said Roy.