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He thinks Boys' Life is a musical instrument because it's the scouts' official organ. You're lucky not to be wished onto the Ravens," he said to Warde. "I'm a full scout, that's all I'm thinking of," Warde laughed. "Well I'm an empty one," said Roy. "Same here," Pee-wee shouted. "I'm glad to see you agree about something," Warde laughed. He felt like laughing. He seemed to walk on air.
Very soon he reached the edge of the shrubbery, and gazed keenly into the moonlit, park-like meadow below him. Peer as he might, he could see no trace of Warde. A dozen trees might conceal him. Perhaps with the omniscience of the house-master, he had divined that the wicket-gate was the ultimate place of egress.
"And believe me, the sky has all the tin roofs I ever saw beaten twenty ways," observed Warde Hollister. That was pretty good for a new scout. "Roofs are all right to slide down," Pee-wee observed. "They're all right as long as you're not under them." "Believe me, we wouldn't have the sky over us if we didn't have to," said Roy. "It's a blamed nuisance when it rains.
The warmth of the pocket evidently revived the chilled snake and, as Sarah was bending over the desk of Annabel Warde, a dainty little girl about her own age, a lithe green body shot from out Sarah's blouse, wriggled across the desk and dropped to the floor. The safety pin had left too large a loop-hole.
"No joking," said Warde. "I was " "I never joke," said Roy, "except from Mondays to Saturdays, and on Sundays, morning, afternoon and evening." Warde tried again, "I was going to ask you about test four." "I'll tell you about it," said the irrepressible Pee-wee. "How about writing the satisfactory account?" "It doesn't include worms and ginger snaps," said Roy. "But what's the usual way?"
It cannot be said that the prices paid for Foxhounds in very recent times have greatly exceeded those of the past. In 1790 Colonel Thornton sold Merkin for four hogsheads of claret, and the seller to have two couples of the whelps. Then in 1808 Mr. John Warde sold a pack of hounds to Lord Althorpe for 1,000 guineas, and the same gentleman sold another pack for the same sum a few years later.
In the afternoon there had been a match with an Old Harrovian team, and both Scaife and Lovell had played for the School. But as yet neither had got his Flannels. As Warde passed through the private side door, Scaife was saying angrily If we had a chance and we had of getting our Flannels last year, why isn't it a cert. this, eh?" Lovell shrugged his shoulders.
"Have you lent him money too?" said Lovell. It was admirably done the hint cleverly conveyed, the mild amazement. Warde smiled grimly. Scaife understood, and took his cue. "Yes; I have lent him money," said he, after a slight pause. "Twenty pounds?" "I believe, sir, that is the amount."
Warde Hollister said, rather heedless of the possible effect of his remark. "I didn't come in the tent, did I?" Pee-wee retorted wistfully. "Come ahead in, Kid," said Roy. "Are you hungry? Here's some fish-hooks." "No, I'm not hungry," Pee-wee said. He had been so touched by Warde's thoughtless remark that he held himself aloof from Roy's hospitality.
"Here," answered Warde, striking the pommel of his saddle with his right hand and laughing rather harshly.
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