“Help yourself,” said Roy, “Pee-wee has plenty of them.” “I don’t care anything about seeing my name in the papers,” said Warde. “I never thought much about Yellowstone Park but I guess I’d like to go there all right. I don’t think so much of that stunt now that it’s written down. But if it wins out I’ll be glad; I’ll be glad mostly on account of the troop——” “Won’t you be glad on account of the grizzly bears?” thundered Pee-wee. “Sure,” Warde laughed, “but I’ll be glad mostly because we have—you know—an honor in our troop. I like this troop better than Yellowstone Park. Anyhow this is all I want to say; I hope you fellows won’t be disappointed if I—if we don’t get it.” “What do you mean _don’t get it_?” Pee-wee roared. “I mean just that,” Warde laughed, as he tousled Pee-wee’s curly hair. “I hope we get it, but I’m not going to worry about it. And if we do get it I’ll be glad on account of the troop. I always stuck to the troop; I could have gone to Europe last summer but I wanted to go away with the troop. And if I do—if I _should_—go out to the Yellowstone this is the way it will be with me; I’ll feel as if I’m going for the troop.” “That’s the way to talk,” said Mr. Ellsworth briskly. “I was just going to talk that way,” thundered Pee-wee. “Mr. Ellsworth saved us just in time,” said Roy. “Young Faithful was going to spurt again. He’s got Old Faithful Geyser tearing its hair with jealousy. Old Faithful spurts every hour, he spurts twice a minute.” “Well,” laughed Mr. Ellsworth, “if this report strikes you all right, suppose you all put your names to it.” “I’ll put mine first,” shouted Pee-wee. It was not until after Westy Martin had signed his name that he had an opportunity of seeking out Warde and talking with him alone. How the hero escaped Pee-wee would be difficult to explain; probably that hero-maker was detained by a prolonged encounter with the refreshments. Warde, always modest, was glad enough to get away from the clamorous throng and walk part way home with Westy, whom he had not seen all summer. CHAPTER XXII WARDE AND WESTY “I said it was the troop I was thinking about,” Warde observed, “but I guess it’s really that kid I’m thinking about as much as anything.” “You mean Mrs. Corbett’s kid?” Westy asked. “No, Pee-wee, Young Faithful. Huh, that’s a pretty good name for him, hey?” “He’s all there,” Westy said. “_He’s_ not going to Yellowstone,” said Warde. “Not even a member of his patrol is. Yet, by golly, here he is standing on his head on account of me.” “Yop, that’s him all right,” said Westy. “How’d you make out this summer?” Warde asked. “We got a couple of cards from you up at camp. Who’s that fellow in the snap-shot you sent me?”