The Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron

ed. And Bud was one of those who can make the best of a bad bargain. Besides, Ralph was a good fellow, and generally well liked by his companions.

Instead of calling out and telling the boy inside the shack that a couple of weary wayfarers had arrived and meant to join him, Hugh saw fit to give the recognized signal of the Wolves: "How-oo-oo!" twice repeated.

Then as Ralph sprang to the door to take away the prop with which he had secured it, Hugh and Bud pushed into the interior of the cabin.

Ralph stared at them but seemed decidedly pleased, for he instantly thrust out his hand in friendly greeting.

"Well, well, who'd think you would drop in on me as if you came from the skies?" he was saying as he worked Hugh's arm like a milkman's pump handle. "You see, I've been coming out here for several years every Thanksgiving afternoon to set my first traps of the season; and while I don't expect ever to do it again, I just couldn't keep from spending one night in the woods to re