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Updated: May 21, 2025
An officer standing by the window with his hands thrust into his pockets called over his shoulder: "Here comes Tam." The thunder and splutter of the scout's engine came to them faintly as Tam's swift little machine came skimming across the broad ground of the aerodrome and in a few minutes Tam was walking slowly toward the office, stripping his gloves as he went. Blackie went out to him.
White girl stay here make Yellow Elk good squaw, maybe," and he grinned into her pretty face. But now an interruption came which all but stunned Yellow Elk. Leaping from his hiding place, Pawnee Brown pounced upon the redskin, caught him by the throat and hurled him backward and almost into the midst of the fire! "You miserable dog!" came from the scout's lips.
From the aperture appeared the torn sleeve of a Boy Scout's uniform, and a brief searching of the sacks after they had been lugged out on the beach revealed the entire stolen equipment.
Drew in the middle, the white rag dropping from the barrel of his carbine, brought the black a step or two in advance. Just so had Castleman ridden into Lexington earlier, and that had been at night with a far more wary and dangerous enemy to face. The scout's confidence rose as he watched, without making any show of his surveillance, the uneasy men ahead.
The click of the scout's rifle caught the ear of the girl, who quickly approached and warned them against making the least noise, as they were now in the midst of an Indian village, and their lives depended upon their implicitly following her instructions.
The Little Scout's pinched and pale face sweet and uncomplaining, even through hunger and want smiled gently and less sadly as it leaned in Molly's arms, and, looking up, she said, "Poor father! How quiet you were last night when we were walking home. I knew you were thinking about to-day and the poor dinner. How kind it was of good Mr. Griffin. I'd like to thank him myself, father!"
Scouts sent out to watch had reported that the cavalry were watching every movement closely, but Pawnee Brown did not dream that Louis Vorlange had overheard what was said at a meeting in the woods, or that this scoundrel had hired Tucker, the cavalryman, to shoot down both himself and Dick Arbuckle. Presently Jack Rasco found his way to the scout's side.
No one was personally anxious to assume such a responsibility. "Louise, your daddy is a lawyer. He would know all about a thing like that. You take it?" urged Margaret. After some discussion Louise finally agreed to accept the charge and old Dave shuffled over to his cupboard, procured a rusty tin box, and placed it in the scout's hand. "There," he said with a sigh of relief.
It seemed as if I had scarcely been asleep five minutes when I felt a light touch on my shoulder. Springing up, I found the whole party already astir, and in a few minutes more we were again hurrying onwards. "We travelled thus until a faint light in the east told us that the day was at hand, when the scout's steps became more cautious, and he paused to examine the ground frequently.
Once more the party was alert, ready for trouble, and taking his cue from them, he kept his stun gun in his hand. But the maneuver at the head of the ramp surprised him. For, though he had heard no signal, all the party but one plastered their bodies back against the wall, Dalgard pulling Raf into position beside him, the scout's muscular bare arm pinning the pilot into a narrow space.
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