So now we're up against it. You don't make
money _scouting_, you make it _working_."
I said, "I wish you'd please tell me why you came up this way, will you?"
"Sure I will," he said; "it's a joke-it's a peach of a joke. Only I tell
you beforehand, we're a band of wild adventurers. Here we are at our
luxurious camp. Pretty big tent, hey?"
"I don't see any tent," I said.
He said, "Don't you see that big blue tent?"
"Where?" I asked him.
"With the little gold spots all over it?"
"Oh, you mean the sky?" I said.
"Some tent, hey?" he said. And then he began laughing.
"There's no man can make a tent like that," I told him.
"It's only intended for rich scouts," he laughed "we don't even bother to
take it with us when we go; we just leave it here. Oh, we're a reckless,
extravagant bunch."
CHAPTER XXIII
BRENT'S STORY
The Church Mice didn't even make up a full patrol, because there were only
five of them counting Brent Gaylong. Maybe the rest of them stayed home.
Only three of them had the uniform, and Brent didn't have any. They didn't
even have duffel bags or a camp kit and when I saw how it was with them, I
just had to admire that fellow who was keeping them together.
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