Tom Slade with the Colors

n never tell just where it is going to bring you out. There is the main trail and there are bra

elter, to triumph and honor perhaps; while the other, which may be ever so c

w where you want to go, and then hit the right trail. You must not be fooled by a side trail just because it happens to be broad and e

way for miles about Temple Camp. It meant that he had picked his way where there was no trail, through a dense and tangled wilderness; that he had found his way by nig

on the office map as he traced that blazed trail from the wood's edge near the camp up through the forest and along the br

people go up ther

trail-a good scout trail which he had picked up and followed. Down there in the mud of Barrel Alley it had begun, and see where it had led! To the platform of the Bridgeboro Lyceum where he, Tom Slade

e was

ett and Sweet Caporal," he mused. "I hit

from the bank entered with another gen

een up here to-day

wn voice tremble a little, and he

ather. Roscoe hasn't been seen since last night

him-to-day?" Mr. B

ir," s

Tom went over to the door of the private off

n is busy,

him," Mr. Br

s Tom stood uneasily trying t

ooking straight at Roscoe's father. "Mr. Burton only got here a few minutes ago, and

tremor in his voice, but his meaning reached th

ured; "maybe he'll think i

boy," said Mr

next. Then they left, and Tom remained standing just wh

" he said to himself, "o

him, who wished to go to war, the very thought of s

lunt honesty, but with a wistful note of disappointmen

ed Tom pleasantly. "Congratulations, Tommy," said he. "I suppo

r, in a fe

otic that we're going to work till

otice us to-morrow," teased t

where, but a few minutes before, he had looked out with

ch bark ornaments, carved canes, and other specimens of handiwork which scouts had made there. There was

inquiries about the woodland community. He had shown it to Roscoe Bent only the day before and, as we

ll and the position of the lonesome shack upon its summit. He called to mind with what pride he had trac

he little hunting shack on the mountain? Was that why he had asked if any one ever went up there; why he had inquired if there were fish to be caught in the brook and game to be hunted in the neighborhood? Was that

ere," said Tom; "he cou

s a little chagrined at his own credibil

wasn't really interested in camping...

w the whole thing now as plain as day. It made him almost sick to think of it. While he, Tom, would be handing badges to the throng of proud and lucky young men just fresh from registering, while he sat upon the platform and

nder what his father would say if he knew.-I wonder what Mi

and his wretched father had lived. But he was not thinking of his mother now-he was thinking of Roscoe Ben

rrow. He could say-he could say anything he wanted to about why he was away on the fifth of June. If he comes back they'll let him register, but if he doesn't they'll f

a few moments he thought of where it had brought him and of the joy and fulfillment which awaited him this very night. He wondered what people would say if he

e breaking a little. "I said it was a good trail, but now I see there

t was the main trail, the true scout trail, which