So it happened that Westy Martin, who had called himself and his companions back-yard scouts, was now afforded the opportunity to do something really big in the line of scouting. Little he dreamed how very big that something would be. We need not pause to accompany our three heroes on these tours of the Park. They saw the sights in true tourist fashion. They saw Old Faithful geyser, they went down into the Devil’s Kitchen, they gazed at the petrified forests—and thought of Pelican Cone. Where was Pelican Cone? Somewhere away off the main traveled roads, no doubt. They asked fellow tourists about it, but none had ever heard of it. And the more remote and inaccessible and unknown it seemed to be, the more they longed to penetrate its distant and intricate fastnesses.
At last, at the appointed time, Westy waited in the big office of the Mammoth Hotel near the Gardiner entrance of the Park. A little group of envious boys, belonging to tourist parties, stood about curiously and enviously.
“Aren’t the other two fellows going?” one asked.
“Sure, they’re getting ready,” said Westy.
“Gee whiz, I’d like to be going up there,” said another. “I bet it’s wild, hey?”
“I guess it is. I’ve never been up there,” said Westy.
The envious little audience stood about gazing at Westy while he waited for his two companions and for Mr. Wilde and Billy the camera man. Westy, bag and baggage, had appeared in the office a half hour before the appointed time; he was not going to take any chances of missing his new friends! He had awakened at daylight and lay counting the minutes. At six o’clock he had arisen, eaten breakfast alone, then wandered about, waiting.
When finally he took his stand in the big office of the hotel he found himself quite as much a celebrity as that fallen hero Shining Sun had ever been.
At last his four comrades on the big adventure appeared together, having partaken of a hasty breakfast.
Mr. Wilde had rooted out the two sleepers whose rest had not been disturbed by thoughts of the big trip.
“A hopeless pair,” said Mr. Wilde cheerily. “Are you all ready?”
“Where’s your scout suit?” Westy asked Ed Carlyle.
“He was too sleepy to see what he was putting on,” said Mr. Wilde in his brisk way. “It’s not the clothes that make the scout—how ’bout that, Ed? Westy, my boy, you’re all for show.”
“No, but I don’t see why he didn’t wear his khaki suit as long as he’s got one,” said Westy. “You’ve got a khaki suit on, I see.”
“Meet Billy, the camera man,” said Mr............