THE BANNER BOY SCOUTS ***

Produced by David Garcia, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

The Banner Boy Scouts

Or The Struggle for Leadership

By GEORGE A. WARREN

THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO. CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N.Y.

Copyright, MCMXII

by CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

_Printed in the United States of America_

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I A Meeting in the Barn

II What it Means to be a Boy Scout

III The Disappearing Coins

IV The First Scout Leader

V Checking a Coward

VI A Strange Suggestion

VII The Trap that Peleg Set

VIII Turning the Tables

IX "Well Done, My Boy!"

X An Unexpected Offer

XI Caught Napping

XII The Rival Troops

XIII "Fire!"

XIV Jack's Chance

XV The Honor Brand

XVI The Fire Test

XVII Clearing Skies

XVIII Carlo Does His Turn

XIX The Warning Over the Wire

XX Such Glorious Luck

XXI The Meeting

XXII Scouting in Earnest

XXIII The Red Car

XXIV A Call for Help

XXV A Camp in the Woods

XXVI What Woodcraft Told

XXVII Ted Finds Something

XXVIII Forced to Tell

XXIX The Capture

XXX Found Out at Last

XXXI Well Done, Stanhope Troop!--Conclusion

PREFACE

My Dear Boys:

Knowing that ninety-nine lads out of every hundred love outdoor life above all else, I have taken it upon myself to give you a series of what I hope will prove to be clean, wide-awake, up-to-date stories, founded upon a subject that is interesting our whole nation--the Boy Scouts of America. You know what a hold this movement has taken upon the rising generation of our broad land. There never was anything like it before--there never may be again.

At first many people made the mistake of believing that it was simply a new military order, and that boys who joined were to be taught the duties of soldiers, and learned how to fight. They know better now. It is really the greatest movement for Peace ever started. Not only that, but the lads who belong to this vast organization are taught how to be manly, self reliant, brave, courteous, kindly and steadfast.

When you examine the roster of the officers who have loaned their names to help along the good cause you will find such honored signatures as those of President William Howard Taft, ex-President Theodore Roosevelt, and many others dear to the hearts of our boys.

This glorious field opens up a very tempting opportunity for a series of stirring stories concerning the fortunes of _real_ Boy Scouts, who have gone into the movement heart and soul, with a desire to excel in all they undertake; and at the same time enjoy themselves hugely. I only hope and trust that you may be pleased with what you read in this book, about the doings of the Red Fox Patrol, of Stanhope Troop, and that the story will do you much good.

Yours faithfully,

George A. Warren.

THE BANNER BOY SCOUTS

CHAPTER I

A MEETING IN THE BARN

"All here now, Paul!"

"Call the roll, somebody, won't you?"

"Keep quiet, fellows, please!"

"Shall I strike a match, Paul?"

"Not on your life, Bobolink. That crowd of Ted Slavin's is out, looking for us. Somebody must have leaked, or else Ted was tipped off. We've got to be mighty cautious, I tell you, if we want to give them the slip."

"S-s-say, d-d-don't you k-k-know we've got a fi-fine b-b-barn on our p-p-place, fellows?"

"For goodness sake; won't somebody please pound Bluff Shipley on the back, and make him bite his twisted tongue, so he can talk straight?" cried a pleading voice.

"Listen!"

There must have been a streak of authority in the tone used by Paul Morrison when he spoke this last word; every one of the other six boys crouched there, craning his neck, and listening to catch the unusual sound that had apparently reached the trained ears of their leader.

The woods surrounded the boys on all sides, gloomy, and full of mystifying noises.

Yet Paul knew full well just what every one of the sounds meant. An owl called mournfully to its mate from a hollow tree. Katydids and merry crickets added their shrill music to the chorus of that late summer night. Even a colony of tree frogs solemnly chanted their appeal for "more rain."

During the day just ended six fellows in the thriving town of Stanhope had received urgent telephone calls from Paul, who was an only son of the leading doctor in the place.

And each boy had promised to meet him at the Three Oaks by the time the clock in the church steeple had struck eight.

It was even now booming out the hour.

When the last stroke died away, the most impatient among the gathered