"
Harry laughed, but didn't try to explain the point further. He liked Dick
immensely; Dick was the first friend he had made in England, and the best,
so far. It was Dick who had tried to get him to join the Boy Scouts, and
who had been immensely surprised to find that Harry was already a scout.
Harry, indeed, had done two years of scouting in America; he had been one
of the first members of a troop in his home town, and had won a number of
merit badges. He was a first-class scout, and, had he stayed with his
troop, would certainly have become a patrol leader. So he had had no
trouble in getting admission to the patrol to which Dick belonged.
It had been hard for Harry, when his father's business called him to
England, to give up all the friendships and associations of his boyhood. It
had been hard to leave school; to tear up, by the roots, all the things
that bound him to his home. But as a scout he had learned to be loyal and
obedient. His parents had talked things over with him very frankly. They
had understood just how hard it would be for him to go with them. But his
father had made him see how necessary it was.
"I want you to be near your mother and myself just now, especially, Harry,"
he had said. "I want you to grow up where I can see you. And, moreover, it
won't hurt you a bit to know something about other countries.
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