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The Keeper of the Bees

“All right,” said the little Scout, “I’m going to telephone Mother and I’m goin’ to get my Scouts on the job, and you put your ear to the ground and listen for a rumble. ‘Kiddo’ is letting loose the dogs of war, believe you me!”

The Scout Master brought both feet down with an emphatic slap and presently Jamie heard the ringing of the telephone and he heard, too, the voice of the little Scout.

“Say, Mom! Margaret Cameron’s away and my partner out here needs me. I’ll prodibly have to cook his dinner for him. I may not get in till late. If it’s too late, he’ll bring me. Don’t worry about me. I’m all right, but this big baby out here needs taking care of worse than baby Jamie. I’ll tell that to the assembled multitude!”

The receiver hit the hook hard enough to break both and the Scout Master went through the front door and started on a skimming run in the direction of the corner grocery below. Jamie sat down and began to think. Then he went to the telephone and called John Carey. He asked if in the event any of the bees threatened to swarm the next day, he could depend on him for help. The reply was that he could. Carey would come over in the morning and they would look the hives over and get some fresh ones ready for swarms to occupy.

Presently Jamie saw the Scout Master enter their front gate and go up the walk with the bottle of milk. After that he saw a bunch of papers and odds and ends carried