We all went over to the landing to ask him how his pal was getting along.

Right away he asked if he could see Mr.Ellsworth.
I said, "Sure you can; I guess he's in the tepee, writing." I felt sort of glad, because I thought probably it meant something good for Skinny.

All morning he was sure one hero, and at the time the camper came he was off with the Elks somewhere, stalking I guess, and I was mighty glad of it.
The tepee is a little tent where the scoutmasters always go when they want to be alone, so as to write up troop stuff.

Nobody ever bothers them in there unless it's important, and even then only one fellow goes.
I said, "Sure, come ahead, I'll find him for you." He was a pretty nice fellow, I could see that, even if he _was_ a tenderfoot, and he spoke mighty friendly, sort of, to me.
He said, "You have a wonderful little life saver here--with a bull dog grip." "It's more than a grip," I said, "it's a regular suitcase.

He's going to get the highest award we have, too." "Bully for him," he said, "we're going to let him know what we think about it, too." "Scouts aren't allowed to take anything for things like that," I told him.
"Well," he said, "we heard him shouting on the lake the other night that he'd like to own a canoe, so we're going to give him ours when we go away next week." "Oh, boy!" I said.