"The same old hard luck seems to follow our scout master wherever we go, Hugh!" "It surely looks that way, Billy, for a fact." "After taking all the trouble to hunt around the country for a new camping place where the Oakvale Troop could open their summer campaign, here the scout master has to be called back home with his mother coming down sick." "It was too bad, Billy, and Lieutenant Denmead looked as if he had met with a bitter disappointment. Having his old mother ill would be bad enough at any time, but to have it happen just now seemed doubly hard. I know he looked forward to a week or so of rest and recreation up here." "Well, all my sympathy is with the lieutenant; I'm not wasting any on the bunch of scouts gathered here around these tents, let me tell you, Hugh. They'll be just as well looked after by our efficient assistant scout master." "It's nice of you to say that, Billy, even if not true. I'll try my level best to please you, but if I succeed it will only be because I've got such a splendid lot of fellows to work with." "What d'ye think of the place our scout master picked out for us, Hugh?" "Couldn't be much better, it seems to me, Billy. We've got mountain scenery and running water. We can take long hikes to the top of the range there; and at the same time get to a town inside of an hour if we want to. The combination is pretty nearly perfect I should say in so far as that goes." The stout boy in khaki, Billy Worth, looked quickly up at the face of his companion, Hugh Hardin. Evidently there must have been some little intonation connected with the last part of the other's remark that aroused a sudden suspicion in his mind.