"I've had a mighty good time to-night, boys," he said, glancing around the circle of eager, young faces. "I just want to thank you for it and tell you frankly that what I've seen of Hillsgrove Boy Scouts has changed my mind completely about the whole proposition. If you fellows are a fair sample of scouting generally,--as I begin to suspect you are,--I see no reason why you should not consider this camp a permanent thing, to come back to every year and be responsible for and do with as you like. I should very much--" The wild yell of delight which went up drowned the remainder of his remarks. Leaping to his feet, MacIlvaine called for a cheer, and the three times three, with a tiger at the end, was given with a vigor that left no doubt of the boys' feelings. When comparative quiet was restored Mr. Thornton thanked them briefly and said he would like to shake hands with every one of the scouts present. Laughing and jostling, the boys formed in line, and as each paused before the banker, Captain Chalmers introduced him. Tompkins was just behind Ranny, and he could not fail to notice the extra vigor Mr. Thornton put into his handshake. "I'm very glad to meet you, Phelps," he said genially. "Your father and I are old friends. In fact, I dined with him at Hillsgrove only a few days ago. And by the way, I was immensely taken with those bird-houses on the place and want some like them for my own. He told me you had put them around just before you came down here. Did you make them yourself?" The usually self-contained Ranleigh turned crimson and dropped his eyes. "N-no, sir," he stammered. "They were made by--by--another--I'll write the address down, and--and give it to you afterward." He passed on, and the boy behind him took his place. In a daze Dale felt his hand shaken and heard the sound of Mr. Thornton's pleasant voice, but the words were as meaningless as if they had been spoken in another tongue. Muttering some vague reply, he dropped the other's hand and was swept on by the crowd behind. Out of the whirling turmoil of his mind one thing alone stood forth sharply. Those were _his_ bird-houses; they could not possibly be any other. It was Ranny who had given him these wonderful two weeks--Ranny, whom he thought-- His head went up suddenly and, glancing around, he caught sight of the blond chap disappearing toward the beach. In a few moments he was at his side. "Ranny!" he exclaimed impulsively. "You--you--" Something gripped his throat, making further speech impossible. Phelps stirred uneasily. "Well," he said with a touch of defiance, "I wanted them, and--and I couldn't make them myself. I--I'm a perfect dub with tools." "You--you did it to--give me a chance at camp." Dale's voice was strained and uneven. His hand still rested on the other's arm, and in the brief silence that followed he felt Ranny stiffen a little. [Illustration: "Ranny!" he exclaimed impulsively. "You--you--"]