"Any kind at all that's good scouting; that's the only rule."
"All right, then I'm going to start to-night," said Nick; "I'm going to
row across and get that cup out of the car so we all can see it. Let's
have the key, will you?"
At this there was a general laugh mingled with shouts from a dozen or so
volunteers:
"I'll go with you!"
"Take me?"
"I'm in on that!"
"I was just going to suggest it!"
"Yes you were--not!"
"Wait till morning," said Scoutmaster Ned.
"It can't be done," said Nick in a funny, sober way; "a scout is
supposed to have his sleep, that's the most important rule of all, you
said so yourself. I can't sleep till I've had a squint at that cup. Come
on Fido, let's row over."
The scout called Fido had won his name because of his doglike
persistence in following trails. "That's me," he said, "I was just going
to propose it when you took the words out of my mouth."
"I'd like to see a photograph of anybody taking anything out of _your_
mouth," said Scoutmaster Ned.
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