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 when you tell me I don’t want you just because there’s certain places I don’t want you! Couldn’t a fellow have reasons? Couldn’t there be some things a body wouldn’t want to bleat all over the pasture?”

Jamie reached down and put his arm around the small person and drew the little figure up against him and found that the frame he was holding was quivering from head to foot.

“The days are fairly long for you, aren’t they?” asked Jamie.

“Oh, I reckon the days are all right,” answered the little Scout. “They’re the same days other kids have, and a lot of ’em get fat on ’em. Cast your optics on Fat Ole Bill, if you don’t believe it. It’s just that there’s times when I pretty near know that my job’s about all I can handle.”

“What’s the trouble?” asked Jamie.

“Well, I reckon you know how you get to be a Scout Master, don’t you?”

Because he wanted information, Jamie said he was not sure.

The little Scout shrugged exasperated shoulders.

“Well, I’m sure! I’m darned sure! You get to be a Scout Master by mastering the Scouts, that’s how! If they are jumping, you jump the farthest. If they are swinging, you swing the highest. If they are running, you spread your white wings and beat ’em to it. If it’s bicycles, you just lie down over the handle bars and paw the air for dear life and let the rest eat your dust. If it’s