CHAPTER I.A HALT BY THE ROADSIDE."Tara--tara!"Loud and clear sounded the notes of a bugle, blown by a very stout lad,clad in a new suit of khaki; and who was one of a bunch of Boy Scoutstramping wearily along a dusty road."Good for you, Bumpus! Can't he just make that horn talk, though?" criedone."Sounds as sweet as the church bell at home, fellows!" declared asecond."Say, Mr. Scout-Master, does that mean a halt for grub?" a third calledout."Sure, Giraffe. Brace up old fellow. You'll have your jaws working rightsoon, now. And here's a dandy little spring, right among the trees! Howshady and cool it looks, Thad.""That's why we kept on for an hour after noon," remarked the boy calledThad, and who seemed to be a person of some authority; "when all youscouts wanted to stop and rest. You see Davy, Allan here, and myselfmade a note of that same spring the other day, when we came along onhorseback, spying out the lay of the land.""Well, now," remarked the boy called Davy, as he threw himself down tostretch; "that's what our instruction book says,--a true scout alwayshas his eyes and ears open to see and hear everything. The more thingsyou can remember in a store window, after only a minute to look, thefurther up you are, see?"The boy called Thad not only wore a rather seedy and faded scout khakiuniform; while those of all his comrades were almost brand new; but hehad several merit badges fastened on the left side of his soft shirt.These things would indicate that Thad Brewster must have been connectedwith some patrol, or troop of Boy Scouts, in the town where he formerlylived before his father, dying, left him in charge of the queer oldbachelor uncle who was known far and wide among the boys of Scranton asplain "Daddy Brewster"--nobody ever understood why, save that he justloved all manner of young people.