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 Having exhausted his arrows Angel Face disappeared for an instant and returned to the fray beating the bee drum and shouting, “Atta boy! Keep your powder dry!”

Flying down the walk came the Nice Child with a fresh instalment of tomatoes.

“First aid to the injured!” yelled the Scout Master.

“Ki-yi-ki, yi-ye, huh-huh!” Fat Ole Bill forgot which side he was on and essayed a war-whoop.

“Listen to the rain crow warble,” shouted the Scout Master, and in an excess of frenzy, lacking arrows, joined Jamie in throwing stones.

When the last tomato had disappeared from the girders, the Scouts appeared breathless and panting before the Scout Master, who stood with sword at attention while the Scouts fell in line for orders. “Scouts, our thanks to the noble stranger who has so ably assisted us in vanquishing our ancient enemies.”

Three small boys, embarrassed at the unexpectedness of the situation, faced Jamie. Fat Ole Bill hung his head and, with his eyes rolled obliquely, muttered, “Thank you!” The Nice Child looked at him straight and said, “Much oblige!” Angel Face brought his heels together, saluted with dignity, and said, “Deeply obligated, sir!” and the Scout Master swept the sword in a wide circle and repeated the hand on the chest bow, and then straighten- ing, faced Jamie. “I thank you! My Scouts thank you! Your country thanks you! Everybody in this darned neighbourhood thanks you! Scout One, get the hose!