"Now for a fling on sh.o.r.e," shouted Roy. "Hand me something till I fling it on sh.o.r.e," he added, hitching his trousers in true mariner's fashion.

_"Oh, the sailor's life is bold and free,_ _Yo hum, yo ho, yo ha, yo hee!_ _The briny foam he doesn't fear-_ _When the foam is on an ice cream soda._

Tom's going to treat."

Roy, being the leader of the Silver Foxes, represented that patrol in the suit-buying expedition; Tom represented his own patrol, and Artie Van Arlen, leader of the Ravens (of whom you shall know more in another volume) completed the trio.

"Correct imitation of a boy scout hunting for an ice cream soda," said Roy, climbing stealthily over the lumber pile and picking his way up to the street. "Gee, it seems funny to be in a city, doesn't it? What are all the flags for?"

"What flags?" said Tom.

"Flag_stones_-you're walking on 'em. No sooner said than stung!"

"Tom's easy," said Artie.

"He bites like a sunfish," said Roy.

It did not take them long to reach a thoroughfare where their tanned faces and jaunty, out-of-town air attracted no little attention.

"Maybe they know we're just fresh from a life on the ocean wave,"

suggested Artie.

"They can see we're fresh, all right," said Roy. "We should worry."

In the first confectionery store which they came to they lined up at the soda counter from behind which a white-jacketed man smiled at them.

"Give me a raspberry sundae," said Artie.

"V-vanilla," said Tom, hesitatingly.

"I'll take heliotripe-trope," said Roy.

The man waited, laughing good-naturedly.

"I can't seem to make up my mind," Roy went on, studying the tempting printed list. "Aren't mad, are you?"

"Me?" said the man. "No, indeed, I'm glad you're so happy."

"We're not happy," said Roy. "We laugh, ha-ha, and dance ha-ha, but we're not happy. I think I'll take-let's see-I'll take-I think I'll take-_chocolate_. Happy thought, that's my patrol color!"

Tom paid for the sodas and Roy bought some peanut brittle. The man smiled after them as they went out.

"The natives on the island seem to be friendly," said Roy.

"That's a good idea," said Artie, "picking out your patrol color."

"Sure," said Roy. "I'm going to write to National Headquarters and tell them to print a rule in the Handbook-next edition."

"What?"

"Don't you know what an edition is? You know what a dish is? Well--"

"_Rule_," said Artie. "'Scouts buying sodas should always select their own patrol colors'?"

"Sure," said Roy. "Good idea. Tom would always take raspberry, I'd take chocolate, and you'd take-let's see--"

"Oh, there's a big dry goods store," said Artie.

They cut across the street and entering a large store, asked where scout supplies were sold.

"Two aisles to your right, then one to your left," was the answer.

"We get you," said Roy.

Reaching the point indicated, and seeing no scout supplies, they asked again.

"Two aisles down and take the elevator to the third floor; then two aisles forward," said a young lady.

"We thank you," said Roy, bowing elaborately.

Having followed these directions and seeing no scout supplies, they inquired of another clerk.

"In the bas.e.m.e.nt," said the clerk.

The three tramped back and down the stairway.

"Keep your scout smile on," said Artie.

"Scouts, I think we're lost," said Roy, "and darkness is coming on."

In the bas.e.m.e.nt they saw tents and canoes in the distance.

"Maybe it's a scout camp in the wilds of a department store," said Roy.

"Are you getting tired, Tom?"

"I bet Jeb Rushmore could find it all right," said Artie.

"You said something; but I think we're hot on the trail now."

Arrived at the spot which looked like a camp, they asked for scout suits.

"You want supplies," said the young lady.

"Right the first time," said Roy.

"Those are on the fourth floor."

The three sank down in one of those swinging porch benches and breathed heavily, much to the girl's amus.e.m.e.nt.