“He has,” said Cavanaugh emphatically. “May I say a word, sir? It’s just this,” he added with some embarrassment, his glance traveling swiftly over the line of scouts. “As Fa—er—Ritter says, not very long ago I didn’t want him in the troop at all. He’s a foreigner, and I didn’t think he knew or cared anything about scouting for the flag or—or anything. I was dead wrong. You all know about what happened in front of the Smelter buildings last Saturday. A beastly anarchist was gassing the crowd and he pulled down the flag and was going to tramp on it. Very likely you’ve heard that a boy jumped out of the bunch and grabbed the flag and got away with it. It broke up the meeting and afterward the men ran the fellow and his gang out of town. Well, that boy was Tallerico, and if he don’t make as fine a scout as anybody here, I’ll—I’ll—”