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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19522-8.txt b/19522-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55a04fe --- /dev/null +++ b/19522-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5367 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom Slade at Temple Camp, by Percy K. Fitzhugh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tom Slade at Temple Camp + +Author: Percy K. Fitzhugh + +Release Date: October 10, 2006 [EBook #19522] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP + +By +PERCY K. FITZHUGH + +Author of +THE TOM SLADE BOOKS +THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS +THE PEE-WEE HARRIS BOOKS + +Published with the approval of +THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA + +WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO. +RACINE, WISCONSIN + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + +Copyright, MCMXVII +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +Printed in the United States of America + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + +TABLE OF CONTENTS + + I. ROY'S SACRIFICE 1 + II. INDIAN SCOUT SIGN 10 + III. PEE-WEE AND MARY TEMPLE 19 + IV. TOM AND ROY 25 + V. FIRST COUP OF THE MASCOT 32 + VI. THE SHELTER 52 + VII. THE "GOOD TURN" 70 + VIII. BON VOYAGE! 79 + IX. THE MYSTERY 94 + X. PEE-WEE'S ADVENTURE 110 + XI. TRACKS AND TRAILING 124 + XII. THE LONG ARM OF THE SCOUT 136 + XIII. TEMPLE CAMP 150 + XIV. HERO CABIN 165 + XV. COWARD 177 + XVI. OSTRACIZED 188 + XVII. THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN CROSS 197 + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + + + + +CHAPTER I + +ROY'S SACRIFICE + + +"Rejected by a large majority--I mean, elected by a large majority." + +Roy Blakeley gathered up the ballots in his two hands, dropped them into +the shoe box and pushed the box across the table to Mr. Ellsworth as if +the matter were finally settled. + +"Honorable Roy Blakeley," he added, "didn't even carry his own patrol." + +This humiliating confession, offered in Roy's gayest manner, was true. +The Silver Foxes had turned from their leader and, to a scout, voted for +Tom Slade. It was hinted that Roy himself was responsible for this, but +he was a good politician and would not talk. There was also a dark rumor +that a certain young lady was mixed up in the matter and it is a fact +that only the night before Roy and Mary Temple had been seen in earnest +converse on the wide veranda at Grantley Square by Pee-wee Harris, who +believed that a scout should be observant. + +Be this as it may, Tom had carried his own patrol, the Elks, +unanimously, and the Silver Foxes had voted for him like instructed +delegates, while among the proud and dignified Ravens there had been but +one dissenting vote. Someone had cast this for Pee-wee Harris, the +Silver Fox mascot and the troop's chief exhibit. But, of course, it was +only a joke. The idea of Pee-wee going away as assistant camp manager +was preposterous. Why, you could hardly see him without a magnifying +glass. + +"If this particular majority had been much larger," announced Roy, "it +wouldn't have been a majority at all; it would have been a unanimity." + +"A una _what_?" someone asked. + +"A unanimity--that's Latin for home run. Seems a pity that the only +thing that prevented a clean sweep was a little three-foot pocket +edition of a boy scout----" + +At this moment, Pee-wee, by a miracle of dexterity, landed a ball of +twine plunk in the middle of Roy's face. + +"Roy," laughed Mr. Ellsworth, "you're a good campaign manager." + +"He's a boss," shouted Pee-wee, "that's what he is. A boss is a feller +that has people elected and then makes them do what he says." + +"Well, you were glad enough to vote for him with the rest, weren't you?" +laughed the scoutmaster. + +And Pee-wee had to confess that he was. + +But there was no doubt that Roy had managed the whole thing, and if ever +political boss saw his fondest wishes realized Roy did now. + +"I think," said Mr. Ellsworth, "that it is up to Tom to deliver his +speech of acceptance." + +"Sure it is," said Westy Martin (Silver Fox). "We want to know his +policies. Is he going to favor the Elks or is he going to be neutral?" + +"Is he for troop first or camp first?" asked Doc. Carson (Raven and +First-aid scout). + +"Is Roy Blakeley going to come in for three or four helpings at mess +because he ran the campaign?" asked Connie Bennett, of the new Elks. + +"Speech, speech!" called Eddie Ingram, of the Silver Foxes. + +Tom looked uneasily at Mr. Ellsworth and on the scoutmaster's laughing +nod of encouragement arose. + +He was not at his best in a thing of this kind; he had always envied Roy +his easy, bantering manner, but he was not the one to shirk a duty, so +he stood up. + +He was about fifteen and of a heavy, ungraceful build. His hair was +thick and rather scraggly, his face was of the square type, and his +expression what people call stolid. He had freckles but not too many, +and his mouth was large and his lips tight-set. His face wore a +characteristic frown which was the last feeble trace of a lowering look +which had once disfigured it. Frowns are in the taboo list of the +scouts, but somehow this one wasn't half bad; there was a kind of rugged +strength in it. He wore khaki trousers and a brown flannel shirt which +was unbuttoned in front, exposing an expanse of very brown chest. + +For Tom Slade's virtues you will have to plow through these pages if you +have not already met him, but for his faults, they were printed all over +him like cities on a map. He was stubborn, rather reticent, sometimes +unreasonable, and carried with him that air of stolid self-confidence +which is apt to be found in one who has surmounted obstacles and risen +in spite of handicaps. It was often said in the troop that one never +knew how to take Tom. + +"I think Pee-wee is right," he said, "and I guess Roy managed this. I +could see he was doing some private wig-wag work, and I think you've all +been--what d'you call it--co-something or other----" + +"Coerced!" suggested Pee-wee. + +(Cries of "No, you're crazy!") + +"But as long as I'm elected I'll take the job--and I'm very thankful. I +won't deny I wanted it. Roy won't get any favors." (Cheers) "If I have +any deciding to do I'll decide the way I think is right. That's all I've +got to say--oh, yes, there's one thing more--one thing I made up my mind +to in case I was lucky enough to get elected." (Cries of "Hear, hear!") +"I'm not going to go by the railroad. I got an idea, like, that it +doesn't took right for a scout to go to camp by train. So I'm going to +hike it up to the camp. I'm going to start early enough so I can do it. +When a scout steps off a train he looks like a summer boarder. I ask Roy +to go with me if he can start when I do. I don't want you fellows to +think I was expecting to be chosen. I didn't let myself think about it. +But sometimes you can't help thinking about a thing; and the other +night I said to myself that if anything should happen I should get +elected----" + +(A voice, "You didn't do a thing but walk away with it, Tommy!") + +(Cries of "Shut up till he gets through!") + +"I wouldn't go to that camp in a train. I'm not going to set foot in it +till I'm qualified for a first-class scout, and I'm going to do the rest +of my stunts on the way. I want Roy to go with me if he can. I thank you +for electing me. I'll do my best in that job. If I knew how to say it, +I'd thank you better. I guess I'm kind of rattled." + +The blunt little speech was very characteristic of Tom and it was +greeted with a storm of applause. He had a way of blurting out his plans +and ideas without giving any previous hint of them, but this was +something of a knockout blow. + +"Oh, you hit it right!" shouted Pee-wee. "Gee, I do hate railroad +trains--railroad trains and homework." + +"You don't mean you're going to hike it from here, Tom, do you?" asked +Mr. Ellsworth. + +"I had an idea I might canoe up as far as Nyack," said Tom, "and then +follow the river up to Catskill Landing and hit in for Leeds--but, of +course," he added, "I didn't really expect to be elected." + +"Oh, crinkums!" shouted Pee-wee. "I'll go with you!" + +"Well," said Roy, when the laughter had subsided, "this is a new wrinkle +and it sounds rather risky for a half-baked Elk----" (Hisses from the +Elks) "So far as I'm concerned, I think a hike of a hundred miles or +so----" + +"You're crazy!" interrupted Pee-wee. "You silver-plated Fox----" + +"Is too much," concluded Roy. "In the first place, there would have to +be a whole lot of discomfort." (Hisses) "A fellow would be pretty sure +to get his feet wet." (Mr. Ellsworth restrained Pee-wee with +difficulty.) "He would have to sleep out of doors in the damp night +air----" (A voice, "Slap him on the wrist!") "And he would be likely to +get lost. Scouts, it's no fun to be lost in the woods----" (Cries of +"Yes, it is!") "We would be footsore and weary," continued Roy. + +"You got that out of a book!" shouted Pee-wee. "_Footsore and +weary_--that's the way folks talk in books!" + +"We might be caught in the rain," said Roy, soberly. "We might have to +pick our way along obscure trail or up steep mountains." + +"You ought to go and take a ride in a merry-go-round," cried Pee-wee, +sarcastically. + +"In short, it is fraught with peril," said Roy. + +"You got _that_ out of a book, too," said Pee-wee, disgustedly, +"_fraught with peril_!" + +"I think it is too much of an undertaking," said Roy, ignoring him. "We +can get round-trip tickets." + +Pee-wee almost fell off his chair. + +"But, of course," continued Roy, soberly, "a scout is not supposed to +think of himself--especially a Silver Fox. I am a Silver +Fox--sterling--warranted. A scout is a brother to every other scout. He +ought to be ready to make sacrifices." (Mr. Ellsworth began to chuckle.) + +"He ought not to stand by and see a fellow scout in danger. He ought not +to stand and see a poor Elk go headlong----" (Hisses) "He ought to be +ready with a good turn regardless of his own comfort and safety." (Hoots +and laughter) "I am ready with a good turn. I am ready to sac----" +(Jeers) "I am ready to sac----" (Jeers) "I am----" (Cries of "Noble +lad!") "I am ready to sac----" + +"Well, go ahead and _sac_, why don't you?" shouted Pee-wee in disgust. +"You're a hyp----" + +"Hip--hooray!" concluded several scouts. + +"You're a hyp--hyp--hypocrite!" Pee-wee managed to ejaculate amid the +tumult. + +"I am ready to sac----" + +"Oh, go on, sac and be done with it!" + +"I am ready to sacrifice myself for Tom Slade," finished Roy, +magnanimously. "Tom," he added, extending his hand across the table with +a noble air of martyrdom, "Tom, I will go with you!" + +The meeting broke up gaily, Mr. Ellsworth saying that he would certainly +communicate Roy's generous and self-sacrificing offer to National +Headquarters as a conspicuous instance of a memorable and epoch-making +good turn. + +"He gets my goat!" said Pee-wee to the scoutmaster. + +"I am very glad," said Mr. Ellsworth, soberly, "that our summer begins +with a good turn. The Silver Foxes should be proud of their unselfish +leader." Then he turned to Doc. Carson and winked the other eye. + +He was a great jollier--Mr. Ellsworth. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +[Transcriber's Note: An Indian scout sign drawing was inserted here.] + + +The old Indian scout sign, which is the title of this chapter, means +_There is nothing new along this trail and it brings you back to the +same place._ If you are already acquainted with Tom Slade and his +friends you will be safe in skipping this chapter but, otherwise, you +would better read it for it will tell you a little of Tom's past history +and of the other scouts with whom you are to become acquainted in this +volume. + +To know just how all this election business came about we must go back a +year or so to a time when Tom Slade was just a hoodlum down in Barrel +Alley and believed with all his heart that the best use a barrel stave +could be put to was to throw it into the Chinese laundry. He had heard +of the Boy Scouts and he called them "regiment guys" and had a +sophisticated contempt for them. + +Then all of a sudden, along had come Roy Blakeley, who had shown him +that he was just wasting good barrel staves; that you could make a +first-class Indian bow out of a barrel stave. Roy had also told him that +you can't smoke cigarettes if you expect to aim straight. That was an +end of the barrel as a missile and that was an end of _Turkish Blend +Mixture_--or whatever you call it. There wasn't any talk or +preaching--just a couple of good knockout blows. + +Tom had held that of all the joys in the mischievous hoodlum program +none was so complete as that of throwing chunks of coal through +streetcar windows at the passengers inside. Then along had come Westy +Martin and shown him how you could mark patrol signs on rocks with +chunks of coal--signs which should guide the watchful scout through the +trackless wilderness. Exit coal as a missile. + +In short, Tom Slade awoke to the realization not only that he was a +hoodlum, but that he was out of date with his vulgar slang and bungling, +unskilful tricks. + +Tom and his father had lived in two rooms in one of John Temple's +tenements down in Barrel Alley and John Temple and his wife and daughter +lived in a couple of dozen rooms, a few lawns, porches, sun-parlors and +things up in Grantley Square. And John Temple stood a better chance of +being struck by lightning than of collecting the rent from Bill Slade. + +John Temple was very rich and very grouchy. He owned the Bridgeboro +National Bank; he owned all the vacant lots with their hospitable "Keep +Out" signs, and he had a controlling interest in pretty nearly +everything else in town--except his own temper. + +Poor, lazy Bill Slade and his misguided son might have gone on living in +John Temple's tenement rent free until it fell in a heap, for though Mr. +Temple blustered he was not bad at heart; but on an evil day Tom had +thrown a rock at Bridgeboro's distinguished citizen. It was a random, +unscientific shot but, as luck would have it, it knocked John Temple's +new golf cap off into the rich mud of Barrel Alley. + +It did not hurt John Temple, but it killed the goose that laid the +golden eggs for the Slades. Mr. Temple's dignity was more than hurt; it +was black and blue. He would rather have been hit by a financial panic +than by that sordid missile from Barrel Alley's most notorious hoodlum. +Inside of three days out went the Slades from John Temple's tenement, +bag and baggage. + +There wasn't much baggage. A couple of broken chairs, a greasy +dining-table which Tom had used strategically in his defensive +operations against his father's assaults, a dented beer-can and a few +other dilapidated odds and ends constituted the household effects of the +unfortunate father and son. + +Bill Slade, unable to cope with this unexpected disaster, disappeared on +the day of the eviction and Tom was sheltered by a kindly neighbor, Mrs. +O'Connor. + +His fortunes were at the very lowest ebb and it seemed a fairly safe +prophesy that he would presently land in the Home for Wayward Boys, when +one day he met Roy Blakeley and tried to hold him up for a nickel. + +Far be it from me to defend the act, but it was about the best thing +that Tom ever did so far as his own interests were concerned. Roy took +him up to his own little Camp Solitaire on the beautiful lawn of the +Blakeley home, gave him a cup of coffee, some plum duff (Silver Fox +brand, patent applied for), and passed him out some of the funniest +slang (all brand new) that poor Tom had ever heard. + +That was the beginning of Tom's transformation into a scout. He fell for +scouting with a vengeance. It opened up a new world to him. To be sure, +this king of the hoodlums did not capitulate all at once--not he. He was +still wary of all "rich guys" and "sissies"; but he used to go down and +peek through a hole in the fence of Temple's lot when they were +practising their games. + +Mr. Ellsworth said nothing, only winked his eye at the boys, for he saw +which way the wind was blowing. Tom Slade, king of the hoodlums, had the +scout bug and didn't know it. + +Then, when the time was ripe, Mr. Ellsworth called him down into the +field one day for a try at archery. Tom scrambled down from the fence +and shuffled over to where the scouts waited with smiling, friendly +faces; but just at that moment, who should come striding through the +field but John Temple--straight for the little group. + +What happened was not pleasant. John Temple denounced them all as a gang +of trespassers, ordered them out of his field and did not hesitate to +express his opinion of Tom in particular. Mr. Ellsworth then and there +championed the poor fellow and prophesied that notwithstanding his past +the scouts would make a man of him yet. + +After that Tom Slade came out flat-footed and hit the scout trail. He +was never able to determine to whom he should be most grateful, Roy +Blakeley or Mr. Ellsworth, but it was the beginning of a friendship +between the two boys which became closer as time passed. + +There is no use retelling a tale that is told. Tom had such a summer in +camp as he had never dreamed of when he used to lie in bed till noontime +in Barrel Alley, and all that you shall find in its proper place, but +you must know something of how Temple Camp came into being and how it +came by its name. + +John Temple was a wonderful man--oh, he was smart. He could take care of +your property for you; if you had a thousand dollars he would turn it +into two thousand for you--like a sleight-of-hand performer. He could +tell you what kind of stocks to buy and when to sell them. He knew where +to buy real estate. He could tell you when wheat was going up or +down--just as if there were a scout sign to go by. He had everything +that heart could wish--and the rheumatism besides. + +But his dubious prophesy as to the future of Tom Slade, king of the +hoodlums, came out all wrong. Tom was instrumental in getting back a pin +which had been stolen from Mary Temple, and when her father saw the boy +after six months or so of scouting he couldn't have been more +surprised--not even if the Bridgeboro Bank had failed. + +Then poor old John Temple (or rich old John Temple) showed that he had +one good scout trait. He could be a good loser. He saw that he was all +wrong and that Mr. Ellsworth was right and he straightway built a +pavilion for the scouts in the beautiful woods where all the surprising +episodes of the summer which had opened his eyes had taken place. + +But you know as well as I do that a man like John Temple would never be +satisfied with building a little one-troop camping pavilion; not he. So +what should he do but buy a tract of land up in the Catskills close to a +beautiful sheet of water which was called Black Lake; and here he put up +a big open shack with a dozen or so log cabins about it and endowed the +whole thing as a summer camp where troops from all over the country +might come and find accommodations and recreation in the summer months. + +That was not all. Temple Camp was to be a school where scouting might be +taught (Oh, he was going to do the right thing, was old John Temple!), +and to that end he communicated with somebody who communicated with +somebody else, who got in touch with somebody else who went to some +ranch or other a hundred miles from nowhere in the woolly west and asked +old Jeb Rushmore if he wouldn't come east and look after this big scout +camp. How in the world John Temple, in his big leather chair in the +Bridgeboro Bank, had ever got wind of Jeb Rushmore no one was able to +find out. John Temple was a genius for picking out men and in this case +he touched high-water mark. + +Jeb Rushmore was furnished with passes over all John Temple's railroads +straight through from somewhere or other in Dakota to Catskill Landing, +and a funny sight he must have been in his flannel shirt and slouch hat, +sprawling his lanky limbs from the platforms of observation cars, +drawling out his pithy observations about the civilization which he had +never before seen. + +There are only two more things necessary to mention in this "side trail" +chapter. Tom's father bobbed up after the boy had become a scout. He was +a mere shadow of his former self; drink and a wandering life had all but +completed his ruin, and although Tom and his companions gave him a home +in their pleasant camp it was too late to help him much and he died +among them, having seen (if it were any satisfaction for him to see) +that scouting had made a splendid boy of his once neglected son. + +This brings us to the main trail again and explains why it was that Roy +Blakeley had held mysterious conferences with Mary Temple, and suggested +to all the three patrols that it would be a good idea to elect Tom to go +to Temple Camp to assist in its preparation and management. They had all +known that one of their number was to be chosen for this post and Roy +had hit on Tom as the one to go because he still lived with Mrs. +O'Connor down in Barrel Alley and had not the same pleasant home +surroundings as the other boys. + +A scout is thoughtful. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PEE-WEE AND MARY TEMPLE + + +Throughout the previous summer Tom had been in Roy's patrol, the Silver +Foxes, but when the new Elk Patrol was formed with Connie Bennett, the +Bronson boys and others, he had been chosen its leader. + +"I think it's just glorious," said Mary Temple, when Tom told her of his +plan and of Roy's noble sacrifice, "and I wish I was a boy." + +"Oh, it's great to be a boy," enthused Pee-wee. "Gee, that's one thing +I'm glad of anyway--that I'm a boy!" + +"Half a boy is better than all girl," taunted Roy. + +"_You're_ a model boy," added Westy. + +"And mother and father and I are coming up in the touring car in August +to visit the camp," said Mary. "Oh, I think it's perfectly lovely you +and Tom are going on ahead and that you're going to walk, and you'll +have everything ready when the others get there. Good-bye." + +Tom and Roy were on their way up to the Blakeley place to set about +preparing for the hike, for they meant to start as soon as they could +get ready. Pee-wee lingered upon the veranda at Temple Court swinging +his legs from the rubble-stone coping--those same legs that had made the +scout pace famous. + +"Oh, crinkums," he said, "they'll have _some_ time! Cracky, but I'd like +to go. You don't believe all this about Roy's making a _noble +sacrifice_, do you?" he added, scornfully. + +Mary laughed and said she didn't. + +"Because that isn't a good turn," Pee-wee argued, anxious that Mary +should not get a mistaken notion of this important phase of scouting. "A +good turn is when you do something that helps somebody else. If you do +it because you get a lot of fun out of it yourself, then it isn't a good +turn at all. Of course, Roy knows that; he's only jollying when he calls +it a good turn. You have to be careful with Roy, he's a terrible +jollier--and Mr. Ellsworth's pretty near as bad. Oh, cracky, but I'd +like to go with them--that's one sure thing. You think it's no fun being +a girl and I'll admit _I_ wouldn't want to be one--I got to admit that; +but it's pretty near as bad to be small. If you're small they jolly +you. And if I asked them to let me go they'd only laugh. Gee, I don't +mind being jollied, but I _would_ like to go. That's one thing you ought +to be thankful for--you're not small. Of course, maybe girls can't do so +many things as boys--I mean scouting-like--but--oh, crinkums," he broke +off in an ecstasy of joyous reflection. "Oh, crinkums, that'll be some +trip, _believe me_." + +Mary Temple looked at the diminutive figure in khaki trousers which sat +before her on the coping. It was one of the good things about Pee-wee +Harris that he never dreamed how much people liked him. + +"I don't know about that," said Mary. "I mean about a girl not being +able to do things--scouting things. Mightn't a girl do a good turn?" + +"Oh, sure," Pee-wee conceded. + +"But I suppose if it gave her very much pleasure it wouldn't be a good +turn." + +"Oh, yes, it might," admitted Pee-wee, anxious to explain the science of +good turns. "This is the way it is. If you do a good turn it's sure to +make you feel good--that you did it--see? But if you do it just for your +own pleasure, then it's not a good turn. But Roy puts over a lot of +nonsense about good turns. He does it just to make me mad--because I've +made a sort of study of them--like." + +Mary laughed in spite of herself. + +"He says it was a good thing when Tom threw a barrel stave in the +Chinese laundry because it led to his being a scout. But that isn't +logic. Do you know what logic is?" + +Mary thought she had a notion of what it was. + +"A thing that's bad can't be good, can it?" Pee-wee persisted. "Suppose +you should hit me with a brick----" + +"I wouldn't think of doing such a thing!" + +"But suppose you did. And suppose the scouts came along and gave me +first aid and after that I became a scout. Could you say you did me a +good turn by hitting me with a brick because that way I got to be a +scout? Roy--you got to be careful with him--you can't always tell when +he's jollying." + +Mary looked at him intently for a few seconds. "Well, then," said she, +"since you've made a study of good turns tell me this. If Roy and Tom +were to ask you to go with them on their long hike, would that be a good +turn?" + +"Sure it would, because it would have a sacrifice in it, don't you see?" + +"How?" + +"Because they'd do it just to please me--they wouldn't really want me." + +"Well," she laughed, "Roy's good at making sacrifices." + +"Je-ru-salem!" said Pee-wee, shaking his head almost incredulously at +the idea of such good fortune; "that'll be some trip. But you know what +they say, and it's true--I got to admit it's true--that two's a company, +three's a crowd." + +"It wouldn't be three," laughed Mary; "it would only be two and a half." + +She watched the sturdy figure as Pee-wee trudged along the gravel walk +and down the street. He seemed even smaller than he had seemed on the +veranda. And it was borne in upon her how much jollying he stood for and +how many good things he missed just because he _was_ little, and how +cheerful and generous-hearted he was withal. + +The next morning Roy received a letter which read: + +"Dear Roy--I want you and Tom to ask Walter Harris to go with you. +Please don't tell him that I asked you. You said you were going to name +one of the cabins or one of the boats for me because I took so much +interest. I'd rather have you do this. You can call it a good turn if +you want to--a real one. + +"MARY TEMPLE." + +Pee-wee Harris also received an envelope with an enclosure similar to +many which he had received of late. He suspected their source. This one +read as follows: + + If you want to be a scout, + You must watch what you're about, + And never let a chance for mischief pass. + You may win the golden cross + If your ball you gayly toss + Through the middle of a neighbor's pane of glass. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TOM AND ROY + + +The letter from Mary Temple fell on Camp Solitaire like a thunderbolt. +Camp Solitaire was the name which Roy had given his own cosy little tent +on the Blakeley lawn, and here he and Tom were packing duffel bags and +sharpening belt axes ready for their long tramp when the note from +Grantley Square was scaled to them by the postman as he made a short cut +across the lawn. + +"What do you know about that?" said Roy, clearly annoyed. "We can't take +_him_; he's too small. Who's going to take the responsibility? This is a +team hike." + +"You don't suppose he put the idea in her head, do you?" Tom asked. + +"Oh, I don't know. You saw yourself how crazy he was about it." + +"Pee-wee's all right," said Tom. + +"Sure he's all right. He's the best little camp mascot that ever +happened. But how are we going to take him along on this hike? And +what's he going to do when he gets there?" + +"He could help us on the troop cabin--getting it ready," Tom suggested. + +Roy threw the letter aside in disgust. "That's a girl all over," he +said, as he sulkily packed his duffel bag. "She doesn't think of what it +means--she just wants it done, that's all, so she sends her +what-d'you-call-it--edict. Pee-wee can't stand for a hundred and forty +mile hike. We'd have to get a baby carriage!" + +He went on with his packing, thrusting things into the depths of his +duffel bag half-heartedly and with but a fraction of his usual skill. +"You know as well as I do about team hikes. How can we fix this up for +three _now_? We've got everything ready and made all our plans; now it +seems we've got to cart this kid along or be in Dutch up at Temple's. +_He_ can't hike twenty miles a day. He's just got a bee in his dome that +he'd like----" + +"It _would_ be a good turn," interrupted Tom. "I was counting on a team +hike myself. I wanted to be off on a trip alone with you a while. I'm +disappointed too, but it _would_ be a good turn--it would be a peach of +a one, so far as that's concerned." + +"No, it wouldn't," contradicted Roy. "It would be a piece of blamed +foolishness." + +"He'd furnish some fun--he always does." + +"He'd furnish a lot of trouble and responsibility! Why can't he wait and +come up with the rest? Makes me sick!" Roy added, as he hurled the +aluminum coffee-pot out of a chair and sat down disgustedly. + +"_Now_, you see, you dented that," said Tom. + +"A lot _I_ care. Gee, I'd like to call the whole thing off--that's what +I'd like to do. I'd do it for two cents." + +"Well, I've got two cents," said Tom, "but I'm not going to offer it. +_I_ say, let's make the best of it. I've seen you holding your sides +laughing at Pee-wee. You said yourself he was a five-reel photoplay all +by himself." + +Roy drew a long breath and said nothing. He was plainly in his very +worst humor. He did not want Pee-wee to go. He, too, wanted to be alone +with Tom. There were plenty of good turns to be done without bothering +with this particular one. Besides, it was not a good turn, he told +himself. It would expose Walter Harris to perils---- Oh, Roy was very +generous and considerate of Walter Harris---- + +"If it's a question of good turns," he said, "it would be a better turn +to leave him home, where he'll be safe and happy. It's no good turn to +him, dragging him up and down mountains till he's so dog-tired he falls +all over himself--is it?" + +Tom smiled a little, but said nothing. + +"Oh, well, if that's the way you feel," said Roy, pulling the cord of +his duffel bag so tight that it snapped, "you and Pee-wee had better go +and I'll back out." + +"It ain't the way I feel," said Tom, in his slow way. "I'd rather go +alone with you. Didn't I say so? I guess Pee-wee thinks he's stronger +than he is. _I_ think he'd better be at home too and I'd rather he'd +stay home, though it's mostly just because I want to be alone with you. +Maybe it's selfish, but if it is I can't help it. I think sometimes a +feller might do something selfish and make up for it some other +way--maybe. But I don't think any feller's got a right to do something +selfish and then call it a good turn. I don't believe a long hike would +hurt Pee-wee. He's the best scout-pacer in your patrol. But I want to go +alone with you and I'd just as soon tell Mary so. I suppose it would be +selfish, but we'd just try to make up----" + +"Oh, shut up, will you!" snapped Roy. "You get on my nerves, dragging +along with your theories and things. _I_ don't care who goes or if +anybody goes. And you can go home and sleep for all I care." + +"All right," said Tom, rising. "I'd rather do that than stay here and +fight. I don't see any use talking about whether it's a good turn to +Pee-wee." (Roy ostentatiously busied himself with his packing and +pretended not to hear.) "I wasn't thinking about Pee-wee so much anyway. +It's Mary Temple that I was thinking of. It would be a good turn to her, +you can't deny that. Pee-wee Harris has got nothing to do with it--it's +between you and me and Mary Temple." + +"You going home?" Roy asked, coldly. + +"Yes." + +"Well, you and Pee-wee and Mary Temple can fix it up. I'm out of it." + +He took a pad and began to write, while Tom lingered in the doorway of +the tent, stolid, as he always was. + +"Wait and mail this for me, will you," said Roy. He wrote: + +"Dear Mary--Since you butted in Tom and I have decided that it would be +best for Pee-wee to go with _him_ and I'll stay here. Anyway, that's +what _I've_ decided. So you'll get your wish, all right, and I should +worry. + +"ROY." + +Tom took the sealed envelope, but paused irresolutely in the doorway. It +was the first time that he and Roy had ever quarrelled. + +"What did you say to her?" he asked. + +"Never mind what I said," Roy snapped. "You'll get your wish." + +"I'd rather go alone with you," said Tom, simply. "I told you that +already. I'd rather see Pee-wee stay home. I care more for you," he +said, hesitating a little, "than for anyone else. But I vote to take +Pee-wee because Mary wants--asks--us to. I wouldn't call it a good turn +leaving him home, and you wouldn't either--only you're disappointed, +same as I am. I wouldn't even call it much of a good turn taking him. We +can never pay back Mary Temple. It would be like giving her a cent when +we owed her a thousand. I got to do what I think is right--you--you made +me a scout. I--I got to be thankful to you if I can see straight. +It's--it's kind of--like a--like a trail--like," he blundered on. "There +can be trails in your mind, kind of. Once I chucked stones at Pee-wee +and swiped Mary's ball. Now I want to take him along--a little bit for +his sake, but mostly for hers. And I want to go alone with you for my +own sake, because--because," he hesitated, "because I want to be alone +with you. But I got to hit the right trail--you taught me that----" + +"Well, go ahead and hit it," said Roy, "it's right outside the door." + +Tom looked at him steadily for a few seconds as if he did not +understand. You might have seen something out of the ordinary then in +that stolid face. After a moment he turned and went down the hill and +around the corner of the big bank building, passed Ching Woo's laundry, +into which he had once thrown dirty barrel staves, picked his way +through the mud of Barrel Alley and entered the door of the tenement +where Mrs. O'Connor lived. He had not slept there for three nights. The +sound of cats wailing and trucks rattling and babies crying was not much +like the soughing of the wind in the elms up on the Blakeley lawn. But +if you have hit the right trail and have a good conscience you can +sleep, and Tom slept fairly well amid the din and uproar. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +FIRST COUP OF THE MASCOT + + +Anyway, he slept better than Roy slept. All night long the leader of the +Silver Foxes was haunted by that letter. The darkness, the breeze, the +soothing music of crickets and locusts outside his little tent +dissipated his anger, as the voices of nature are pretty sure to do, and +made him see straight, to use Tom's phrase. + +He thought of Tom making his lonely way back to Barrel Alley and going +to bed there amid the very scenes which he had been so anxious to have +him forget. He fancied him sitting on the edge of his cot in Mrs. +O'Connor's stuffy dining room, reading his Scout Manual. He was always +reading his Manual; he had it all marked up like a blazed trail. Roy got +small consolation now from the fact that he had procured Tom's election. +If Tom had been angry at him, his conscience would be easier now; but +Tom seldom got mad. + +In imagination he followed that letter to the Temple home. He saw it +laid at Mary's place at the dining table. He saw her come dancing in to +breakfast and pick it up and wave it gaily. He saw John Temple reading +his paper at the head of the table and advising with Mary, who was his +partner in the Temple Camp enterprise. He knew it was for her sake quite +as much as for the scouts that Mr. Temple had made this splendid gift, +and he knew (for he had dined at Grantley Square) just how father and +daughter conferred together. Why, who was it but Mary that told John +Temple there must be ten thousand wooden plates and goodness knows how +many sanitary drinking cups? Mary had it all marked in the catalogues. + +Roy pictured her as she opened the letter and read it,--that rude, +selfish note. He wondered what she would say. And he wondered what John +Temple would think. It would be such a surprise to her that poor little +Pee-wee was not wanted. + +In the morning Roy arose feeling very wretched after an all but +sleepless night. He did not know what he should do that day. He might go +up to Grantley Square and apologize, but you cannot, by apology, undo +what is done. + +While he was cooking his breakfast he thought of Pee-wee--Pee-wee who +was always so gay and enthusiastic, who worshipped Roy, and who "did not +mind being jollied." He would be ashamed to face Pee-wee even if that +redoubtable scout pacer were sublimely innocent of what had taken place. + +At about noon he saw Tom coming up the lawn. He looked a little +shamefaced as Tom came in and sat down without a word. + +"I--I was going to go down to see you," said Roy. "I--I feel different +now. I can see straight. I wish I hadn't----" + +"I've got a letter for you," said Tom, disinterestedly. "I was told to +deliver it." + +"You--were you at Temple's?" + +"There isn't any answer," said Tom, with his usual exasperating +stolidness. + +Roy hesitated a moment. Then, as one will take a dose of medicine +quickly to have it over, he grasped the envelope, tore it open, and +read: + +"Dear Mary--Since you butted in Tom and I have decided it would be best +for Pee-wee to go with _him_ and I'll stay home. Anyway, that's what +_I've_ decided. So you'll get your wish, all right, and I should worry. + +"ROY." + +He looked up into Tom's almost expressionless countenance. +"Who--told--you to deliver it--Tom?" + +"I told myself. You said you'd call the whole thing off for two cents. +But you ought not to expect me to pay the two cents----" + +"Didn't I put a stamp on it?" said Roy, looking at the envelope. + +"If you want to put a stamp on it now," said Tom, "I'll go and mail it +for you--but I--I didn't feel I cared to trust you for two cents--over +night." + +Through glistening eyes Roy looked straight at Tom, but found no +response in that dogged countenance. But he knew Tom, and knew what to +expect from him. "You old grouch," he shouted, running his hand through +Tom's already tousled and rebellious hair. "Why don't you laugh? So you +wouldn't trust me for two cents, you old Elk skinflint, wouldn't you. +Well, then, the letter doesn't get mailed, that's all, for I happen to +have only one stamp left and that's going to Pee-wee Harris. Come on, +get your wits to work now, and we'll send him the invitation in the form +of a verse, what d'you say?" + +He gave Tom such a push that even he couldn't help laughing as he +staggered against the tent-pole. + +"I'm no good at writing verse," said he. + +"Oh, but we'll jolly the life out of that kid when we get him away," +said Roy. + +It is a wise precept that where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be +wise. Pee-wee Harris never dreamed of the discussion that had taken +place as to his going, and he accepted the invitation with a glad heart. + +On the momentous morning when the trio set forth upon their journey, +Mary Temple, as glad as they, stood upon the steps at Grantley Square +and waved them a last good-bye. + +"Don't forget," she called, "we're coming up in the car in August to +visit you and see the camp and that dreadful Jeb or Job or Jib or +whatever you call him, who smokes a corn-cob pipe--ugh!" + +The last they saw of her was a girlish shrug of disgust at that strange +personage out of the West about whom (largely for her benefit) Roy and +others had circulated the most outlandish tales. Jeb Rushmore was +already ensconced in the unfinished camp, and from the few letters which +had come from him it was judged that his excursion east had not spoiled +him. One of these missives had been addressed to _Mister John Temple_ +and must have been a refreshing variation from the routine mail which +awaited Mr. Temple each morning at the big granite bank. It read: + + "Thar's a crittur come here to paint names o' animiles on the cabin + doors. I told him friendly sich wuzn't wanted, likewise no numbers. + He see it were best ter go. Bein' you put up th' money I would say + polite and likewise explain ez how the skins uv animiles is propper + fur signs an' not numbers bein' ez cabins is not railroad cars." + +This is a fair sample of the letters which were received by Mr. Temple, +by Mr. Ellsworth, and even at National Scout Headquarters, which Jeb +Rushmore called "the main ranch." + +The idea of putting the skin of a silver fox, for instance, on the +patrol's cabin instead of a painted caricature of that animal, took the +boys by storm, and to them at least Jeb Rushmore became a very real +character long before they ever met him. They felt that Jeb Rushmore had +the right idea and they were thrilled at the tragic possibilities of +that ominous sentence, "He see it were best to go." + +The whole troop was down at the boathouse to see the boys off. Tom and +Roy wore old khaki trousers and faded shirts which had seen service in +many a rough hike; their scarred duffel bags bore unmistakable signs of +hard usage, but Pee-wee was resplendent in his full regalia, with his +monogram burned in a complicated design into the polished leather of his +brand new duffel bag. His "trousseau," as the boys called it, was indeed +as complete and accurate as was possible. Even the scout smile, which is +not the least part of the scout make-up, was carried to a conspicuous +extreme; he smiled all over; he was one vast smile. + +"Don't fall off any mountains, Pee-wee." + +"Be sure to take your smile off when you go to bed." + +"If you get tired, you can jump on a train." + +"Pee-wee, you look as if you were posing for animal crackers." + +These were some of the flippant comments which were hurled at Pee-wee as +the three, in Roy's canoe, glided from the float and up the river on the +first stage of what was destined to be an adventurous journey. + +The river, along whose lower reaches Bridgeboro was situated, had its +source within a mile or two of the Hudson in the vicinity of Nyack. +From the great city it was navigable by power craft as far as Bridgeboro +and even above at full tide, but a mile or two above the boys' home town +it narrowed to a mere creek, winding its erratic way through a beautiful +country where intertwined and overarching boughs formed dim tunnels +through which the canoeist passed with no sound but the swishing of his +own paddle. The boys had never before canoed to the river's source, +though it was one of the things they had always been meaning to do. It +was a happy thought of Tom's to make it a part of their journey now and +strike into the roads along the Hudson in that way. + +"Oh, crinkums, I'm crazy to see Jeb Rushmore, aren't you?" said Pee-wee. +"I never thought I'd have a chance to go like this, I sure didn't! I +never thought you'd want me." + +"We couldn't do without you, kiddo," said Roy, as he paddled. "We +wouldn't have any luck--you're our lucky penny." + +"Cracky, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I got that +note. At first, I thought you must be jollying me--and even now it +doesn't seem real." + +The boys laughed. "Well, here you are, kiddo," said Roy, "so you see +it's real enough." + +"Do you suppose we'll have any adventures?" + +"Why, as the little boy said when he spilled the ink on the parlor +carpet, 'that remains to be seen.' We won't side-step any, you can be +sure of that." + +"There may be danger awaiting us," said Pee-wee. + +"Well, I only hope it'll wait till we get to it," Roy laughed. "What do +you say, kiddo, shall we hit it up for Nyack to-night or camp along the +river?" + +They decided to paddle leisurely, ending their canoe trip next day. +About dusk they made their camp on a steep, wooded shore, and with the +flame of their campfire reflected in the rippling water, Roy cooked +supper. + +Pee-wee was supremely happy. It is doubtful if he had ever before been +so happy. + +"There's one thing," said Tom, as he held the bacon over the flame. "I'm +going to do my first-class stunts before we get there." + +"And I'm going to do some tracking," said Roy; "here you go, Pee-wee, +here's a bacon sandwich--look out for the juice. This is what Daniel +Boone used to eat." He handed Pee-wee a sizzling slice of bacon between +two cakes of sweet chocolate! + +"Mmmmmmm," said Pee-wee, "that's scrumptious! Gee, I never knew +chocolate and bacon went so good together." + +"To-morrow for breakfast I'll give you a boiled egg stuffed with caraway +seeds," said Roy. + +"Give him a Dan Beard omelet," said Tom. + +"What's that?" asked Pee-wee, his two hands and his mouth running with +greasy chocolate. + +"Salt codfish with whipped cream," answered Roy. "Think you'd like it?" + +Pee-wee felt sure he would. + +"And there's one thing _I'm_ going to do," he said. "Tom's going to +finish his first-class stunts and you're going to do tracking. I'm going +to----" + +"Have another sandwich?" interrupted Roy. + +"Sure. And there's one thing I'm going to do. I'm going to test some +good turns. Gee, there isn't room enough to test 'em indoors." + +"Good for you," said Roy; "but you'd better trot down to the river now +and wash your face. You look like the end man in a minstrel show. Then +come on back and we'll reel off some campfire yarns." + +They sat late into the night, until their fire burned low and Roy +realized, as he had never before realized, what good company Pee-wee +was. They slept as only those know how to sleep who go camping, and +early in the morning continued their journey along the upper and +tortuous reaches of the narrowing river. + +Early in the spring there had been a serious flood which had done much +damage even down in Bridgeboro, and the three boys as they paddled +carefully along were surprised at the havoc which had been wrought here +on the upper river. Small buildings along the shore lay toppled over, +boats were here and there marooned high and dry many yards from the +shore, and the river was almost impassable in places from the +obstructions of uprooted trees and other debris. + +At about noon they reached a point where the stream petered out so that +further navigation even by canoe was impossible; but they were already +in the outskirts of West Nyack. + +"The next number on the program," said Roy, "is to administer first aid +to the canoe in the form of a burlap bandage. Pee-wee, you're appointed +chairman of the grass committee--pick some grass and let's pad her up." + +If you have never administered "first aid" to a canoe and "padded it up" +for shipment, let me tell you that the scout way of doing it is to bind +burlap loosely around it and to stuff this with grass or hay so that the +iron hook which is so gently wielded by the expressman may not damage +the hull. + +Having thus prepared it for its more prosaic return journey by train, +they left the boat on the shore and following a beaten path came +presently into the very heart of the thriving metropolis of West Nyack. + +"I feel as if we were Lewis and Clarke, or somebody, arriving at an +Indian village," said Pee-wee. + +At the express office Roy arranged for the shipment of the canoe back to +Bridgeboro, and then they started along the road toward Nyack. It was on +this part of their journey that something happened which was destined +materially to alter their program. + +They had come into the main street of the village and were heading for +the road which led to the Hudson when they came upon a little group of +people looking amusedly up into an elm tree on the lawn of a stately +residence. A little girl was standing beneath the tree in evident +distress, occasionally wringing her hands as she looked fearfully up +into the branches. Whatever was happening there was no joke to her, +however funny it might be to the other onlookers. + +"What's the matter?" Tom asked. + +"Bird up there," briefly answered the nearest bystander. + +"She'll never get it," said another. + +"Oh, now he's going away," cried the little girl in despair. + +The contrast between her anxiety and the amusement of the others was +marked. Every time she called to the bird it flitted to another limb, +and every time the bird flitted she wrung her hands and cried. An empty +cage upon a lawn bench told the story. + +"What's the matter?" said Pee-wee, going to the child and seeking his +information first-hand. + +"Oh, I'll never get him," she sobbed. "He'll fly away in a minute and +I'll never see him again." + +Pee-wee looked up into the branches and after some difficulty succeeded +in locating a little bird somewhat smaller than a robin and as green as +the foliage amid which it was so heedlessly disporting. + +"I see him," said Pee-wee. "Gee, don't you cry; we'll get him some way. +We're scouts, we are, and we'll get him for you." + +His reassuring words did not seem to comfort the girl. "Oh, there he +goes!" she cried. "Now he's going to fly away!" + +He did not fly away but merely flew to another limb and began to preen +himself. For so small a bird he was attracting a great deal of notice in +the world. Following Pee-wee's lead, others including Tom and Roy +ventured upon the lawn, smiling and straining their eyes to follow the +tantalizing movements of the little fugitive. + +"Of course," said Pee-wee to the girl, "it would be easy enough to shin +up that tree--that would be a cinch--anybody could do that--I mean any +_feller_--of course, a girl couldn't; but I'd only frighten him away." + +"You'll never get him," said one man. + +"What kind of a bird is it?" Tom asked. + +"It's a dwarf parrot," the girl sobbed, "and I'll never get him--never!" + +"You don't want to get discouraged," said Pee-wee. "Gee, there's always +some way." + +The spectators evidently did not agree with him. Some of them remained +about, smiling; others went away. The diminutive Pee-wee seemed to +amuse them quite as much as the diminutive parrot, but all were agreed +(as they continually remarked to each other) that the bird was a +"goner." + +"Is he tame?" Roy asked. + +"He was _getting_ tame," the girl sobbed, "and he was learning to say my +name. My father would give a hundred dollars--Oh," she broke off, "now +he _is_ going away!" She began to cry pitifully. + +Pee-wee stood a moment thoughtfully. "Have you got a garden hose?" he +presently asked. + +"Yes, but you're not going to squirt water at him," said the girl, +indignantly. + +"If you get the garden hose," said Pee-wee, "I'll bring him down for +you." + +"What are you going to do, kiddo?" Roy asked. + +"You'll see," said Pee-wee. + +The other boys looked at each other, puzzled. The girl looked half +incredulously at Pee-wee and something in his manner gave her a feeling +of hope. Most of the others laughed good-humoredly. + +They hauled the nozzle end of a garden hose from where it lay coiled +near a faucet in the stone foundation. Pee-wee took the nozzle and began +to play the stream against the trunk of the tree, all the while looking +up at the parrot. Presently, the bird began to "sit up and take notice," +as one might say. It was plainly interested. The bystanders began to +"sit up and take notice" too, and they watched the bird intently as it +cocked its head and listened. Pee-wee sent the stream a little higher up +the trunk and as he did so the bird became greatly excited. It began +uttering, in the modulated form consonant with its size, the discordant +squawk of the parrot. The little girl watched eagerly. + +"Get the cage," ordered Pee-wee. + +Roy brought it and laid it at his feet. The stream played a little +higher, and the bird chattered furiously and came lower. + +"Remind you of home?" Pee-wee asked, looking up and playing the water a +little higher. The bystanders watched, in silence. The bird was now upon +the lowest branch, chattering like mad and flapping its wings +frantically. The little girl, in an ecstasy of fresh hope, called to it +and danced up and down. + +But Pee-wee, like a true artist, neither saw nor heard his audience. He +was playing the bird with this line of water as an angler plays a fish. +And never was moth lured by a flame more irresistibly than this little +green fugitive was lured by the splashing of that stream. + +"Oh, can you catch him? Can you catch him?" pleaded the girl as she +clutched Pee-wee's arm. + +"Let go a minute," said Pee-wee. "Now, all stand back, here goes!" + +He shot the stream suddenly down at the base of the tree, holding the +nozzle close so that the plashing was loud and the spray diffused. And +as an arrow goes to its mark the bird came swooping down plunk into the +middle of the spray and puddle. Still playing the stream with one hand, +Pee-wee reached carefully and with his other gently encircled the little +drenched body. + +"Quite an adventure, wasn't it, Greenie?" he said. "Where'd you think +you were? In the tropics?---- If you ever want to take hold of a bird," +he added, turning to the girl, "hold it this way; make a ring out of +your thumb and first finger, and let his stomach rest on the palm of +your hand. Be sure your hand isn't cold, though. Here you are--that's +right." + +The girl could hardly speak. She stood with her dwarf parrot in her +hand, looking at the stream of water which was now shooting silently +through the grass and at the puddle which it had made, and she felt that +a miracle had been performed before her eyes. Roy, hardly less pleased +than she, stepped forward and turned off the water. + +"Good work," said a gentleman. "I've seen many a bird brought down, but +never in that fashion before." + +"_We_ don't use the other fashion," said Tom, with a touch of pride as +he put his hand on Pee-wee's shoulder. "Do we, kid?" + +"If it was a canary," said Pee-wee, "I might possibly have whistled him +down, but not near enough to catch him, I guess. But as soon as I knew +that bird came from the tropics, I knew he'd fall for water, 'cause a +tropical bird'll go where the sound of water is every time. I guess it's +because they have so many showers down there, or something. Then once I +heard that it's best to turn on the faucet when you're teaching a parrot +to talk. It's the sound of water. Did you get any water on you?" he +asked, suddenly turning to the child. + +There was no water on her clothing, but there was some in her eyes. + +"I--I--think you're wonderful," she said. "I think you are just +wonderful!" + +"'Twasn't me," said Pee-wee, "it was the water. Gee," he added +confidentially, "I often said I hated water, and I do hate a rainy day. +And if you get any water in a carburetor--_goo-od-night_! But I got to +admit water's good for some things." + +"Oh, I want you please to wait--just a few minutes--I want to go and +speak to my father," the girl said, as the boys started to move away. +They were the only ones left now. "Please wait just a minute." + +"We're on our way to Nyack," said Roy, suspecting her intention, "and +I'm afraid we've lost as much time as we dare. We've got to do a little +shopping there and our weather prophet here thinks we're going to have a +_real_ tropical shower before long." + +"But won't you let my father give you each--something? You've been so +good and it's--oh--it's just _wonderful_!" + +"Pee-wee, you're the doctor," said Roy. + +"I got to do a good turn every day," said the "doctor," "because we're +scouts and that's the rule. If we took anything for it, why, then it +wouldn't be a good turn. It would spoil all the fun. We're going on a +long hike, up the Hudson to our camp. We don't want to go near railroad +trains--and things like that. These fellows are taking me with them; +that's a good turn, but if somebody paid 'em to do it, it wouldn't be a +good turn, would it? I'm thankful to you and your parrot that you gave +me the chance. Now I don't have to think of a good turn again till +tomorrow. Besides I just happened to know about parrots and water so +it's no credit to me." + +That was it--he just happened to know! It was one of the dozens of +things that he "just happened to know." How he came by the knowledge was +a mystery. But perhaps the best thing he knew was that a service is a +service and that you knock it in the head as soon as you take payment +for it. + +The girl watched them, as they jumped the hedge, laughing gaily at +Pee-wee's clumsiness and, waving their hats to her, took their belated +way along the road. + +It was not the most popular way of bringing down a bird, but there was +no blood on Pee-wee's hands, and it was a pretty good stunt at that! + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE SHELTER + + +"Pee-wee, you're a wonder," said Roy. "You're the only original Boy +Scout; how did you get next to that stunt? What do you think of him, +Tom?" + +"Some wrinkle," said Tom. + +"Crinkums!" said Pee-wee. "I'm mighty glad I got him. If it hadn't +succeeded I'd have felt cheap, sure; but when you're dealing with a +girl, you always want to act as if you're sure of yourself. Do you know +why?" + +"Can't imagine," said Roy. "Break it to us gently." + +"Because girls are never sure of themselves and they'll never take much +stock in what you say unless you seem to be sure of yourself. That's one +thing I've noticed. I've made a study of girls, kind of---- And you're +more apt to succeed if there's a girl watching you--did you ever notice +that?" + +Roy laughed. + +"It's so," urged Pee-wee. "And there's another thing about girls, too; +they're repulsive." + +"What?" said Tom. + +"_What?_" said Roy. + +"They say the first thing that comes into their heads." + +"_Im_pulsive, you mean," laughed Roy. + +"Well, they're all right on good turns," said Tom. + +"They don't have any good turns in the Camp Fire Girls," said Pee-wee. + +"A girl might do a good turn and you'd never know anything about it," +said Tom, significantly. + +"Cracky," said Pee-wee, "she was tickled to get that bird back." + +In a little while they were tramping along the main street of Nyack, +heading for the lordly Hudson. It was almost twilight, the shops were +shutting their doors, and as they came around the hill which brought +them face to face with the river, the first crimson glow of sunset fell +upon the rippling current. Across the wide expanse, which seemed the +wider for the little winding stream they had so lately followed, the +hills were already turning from green to gray and tiny lights were +visible upon the rugged heights. A great white steamer with its light +already burning was plowing majestically upstream and the little open +craft at the shore rocked in the diminishing ripples which it sent +across the water, as though bowing in humble obeisance to it. + +"Gee, it's lonely, isn't it!" said Pee-wee. + +"Not getting homesick, are you, kiddo?" + +"No, but it seems kind of lonesome. I'm glad there's three of us. Oh, +jiminy, look at those hills." + +The scene was indeed such as to make the mightiest man feel +insignificant. + +The map showed a road which led to Haverstraw, and this the boys decided +to follow until they should find a convenient spot in which to bivouac +for the night. It followed the Hudson, sometimes running along the very +brink with the mighty highlands rising above it and sometimes running +between hills which shut the river from their view. + +"Hark," said Tom. "What did I tell you! Thunder!" + +A low, distant rumble sounded, and as they paused in the gathering +darkness, listening, a little fitful gust blew Pee-wee's hat off. + +"We're going to get a good dose of it," said Tom. "I've been smelling it +for the last hour; look at those trees." + +The leaves were blowing this way and that. + +"We should worry," said Roy. "Didn't I tell you we might have to get our +feet wet? This is a risky bus----" + +"Shut up!" said Pee-wee. + +They had walked not more than a quarter of a mile more when they came +upon a stretch of road which was very muddy, with a piece of lowland +bordering it. It was too dark to see clearly, but in the last remnant of +daylight the boys could just distinguish a small, peculiar looking +structure in the middle of this vast area. + +"That's a funny place to build a house," said Roy. + +"Maybe it's a fisherman's shack," Tom suggested. + +Whatever it was, it was a most isolated and lonesome habitation, +standing in the centre of that desert flat, shut in by the precipitous +hills. + +"It would be a good place for a hermit," said Roy. "You don't suppose +anyone lives there, do you?" + +"Cracky, wouldn't you like to be a hermit! Do you know what I'd like to +have now----" + +"An umbrella," interrupted Tom. + +The remark, notwithstanding that it shocked Pee-wee's sense of fitness, +inasmuch as they were scouting and "roughing it," was not inappropriate, +for even as Tom spoke the patter of great drops was heard. + +"Maybe it's been raining here this afternoon," observed Tom, "and that's +what makes all this mud." + +"Well, it's certainly raining here now," said Roy. "Me for that shack!" + +The rain suddenly came down in torrents and the boys turned up their +collars and made a dash across the marshy land toward the shadowy +structure. Roy reached it first and, turning, called: "Hey, fellows, +it's a boat!" + +The others, drenched, but laughing, followed him, scrambling upon the +deck and over the combing into the cockpit of a dilapidated cabin +launch. + +"What do you know about that!" said Roy. "Strike a light and let's see +where we're at. I feel like a wet dish rag." + +Presently Pee-wee's flashlight was poking its bright shaft this way and +that as they looked curiously about them. They were in a neglected and +disheveled, but very cosy, little cabin with sleeping lockers on either +side and chintz curtains at the tiny portholes. A two-cylinder engine, +so rusted that the wheel wouldn't turn over and otherwise in a dubious +condition, was ineffectually covered by a piece of stiff and rotten oil +cloth, the floor was cluttered with junk, industrious spiders had woven +their webs all about and a frantic scurrying sound told of the hurried +departure of some little animal which had evidently made its home in the +forsaken hull. + +"Oh, but this is great!" enthused Pee-wee. "This is the kind of an +adventure you read about; _now_ our adventures have really started." + +"It'll be more to the purpose if we can get our supper really started," +said Roy. + +"How do you suppose it got here?" Pee-wee asked. + +"That's easy," said Tom. "I didn't realize it before, but the tide must +come up over the road sometimes and flood all this land here. That's +what makes the road muddy. There must have been a good high tide some +time or other, and it brought the boat right up over the road and here +it is, marooned." + +"Maybe it was the same flood that did all the damage down our way," Roy +said. "Well, here goes; get the things out, Pee-wee, and we'll have some +eats. Gee, it's nice in here." + +It _was_ nice. The rain pattered down on the low roof and beat against +the little ports; the boat swayed a little in the heavier gusts of wind +and all the delightful accompaniments of a life on the ocean wave were +present--except the peril. + +"You get out the cooking things," said Roy, "while I take a squint +around and see if I can find something to kindle a fire in." + +He did not have to go far. Sliding open the little hatch, he emerged +into the cockpit, where the wind and rain smote him mercilessly. The +storm had grown into a tempest and Roy wondered how it would be out on +the wide river on such a night. In the cockpit was nothing but the +shredded remnant of a sun awning and a couple of camp chairs, but a few +feet from the boat something on the mushy ground cast a faint glimmer, +and on going to it he found it to be a battered five-gallon gasoline +can, which he brought back in triumph. By this time Tom and Pee-wee had +the camp lamp burning and the supper things laid out. It was a very cosy +scene. + +"See if there's a Stillson wrench in that locker," said Roy. + +Among the rusted tools was a "Stillson," and with this Roy disconnected +the exhaust pipe from the engine. He next partly "jabbed" and partly cut +a hole in the gasoline can of about the circumference of the pipe. A +larger hole in the side of the can sufficed for a door and he squeezed +the end of the exhaust pipe into the hole he had made for it, and +presto! there was a very serviceable makeshift stove with the exhaust +system of the engine converted into a draught and chimney. + +"The new patent Silver Fox cooking stove," said Roy. "A scout is +resourceful. This beats trying to kindle a fire outside, a night like +this. Chuck that piece of wood over here." + +There was an old battery box knocking about and this Roy whittled into +shavings, while the others with their belt axes completed the ruin of +the awning stanchions by chopping them into pieces a few inches long. + +"Guess they weren't good for much," observed Tom. + +"Oh," said Pee-wee, "I'd just like to live in this boat." + +It was no wonder he felt so. With the fire burning brightly in the old +can and sending its smoke out through the boat's exhaust, the smell of +the bacon cooking, the sight of their outer garments drying in the +cheery warmth, while the wind howled outside and the rain beat down upon +the low roof the situation was not half bad and an occasional lurch of +the old hull gave a peculiar charm to their odd refuge. + +"Could you dally with a rice cake, kiddo?" asked Roy, as he deftly +stirred up some rice and batter. "Sling me that egg powder, Tom, and +give me something to stir with--not that, you gump, that's the fever +thermometer!" + +"Here's a fountain pen," said Pee-wee; "will that do?" + +"This screw-driver will be better," said Roy. "Here, kiddo, make +yourself useful and keep turning that in the pan. You're a specialist on +good turns." + +Pee-wee stirred, while Tom attended to the fire, and Roy to the cooking. +And I might mention on the side that if you should happen to be marooned +in a disused boat on a blustering night, and are ingenious enough (as +Roy was) to contrive the cooking facilities, you cannot do better than +flop a few rice cakes, watching carefully that they don't burn. You can +flop them with a shoe horn if you've nothing better at hand. + +They spread their balloon silk tent in the cockpit, holding fast to the +corners until enough water had fallen into it to fill the coffee-pot, +and they had three such cups of coffee as you never fancied in your +fondest dreams. + +For dessert they had "Silver Fox Slump," an invention of Roy's made with +chocolate, honey and, I think, horse-radish. It has to be stirred +thoroughly. Pee-wee declared that it was such a _table d'hote_ dinner as +he had never before tasted. He was always partial to the scout style of +cooking and he added, "You know how they have music at _table d'hote_ +dinners. Well, this music's got it beat, that's one sure thing. Gee, +I'll hate to leave the boat, I sure will." + +The boisterous music gave very little prospect of ceasing, and after the +three had talked for an hour or so, they settled down for the night, two +on the lockers and one on the floor, with the wind still moaning and the +rain coming down in torrents. + +When they awoke in the morning the wind had died down somewhat, but it +still blew fitfully out of the east and the rain had settled down into +a steady drizzle. Tom ventured out into the cockpit and looked about +him. The hills across the river were gray in the mist and the wide +expanse of water was steel color. He could see now that there was +another road close under the precipitous cliffs and that the one which +divided this lowland from the river was almost awash. Through the mist +and drizzle along this higher road came a man. He left the road and +started to pick his way across the flat, hailing as he came. The three +boys awaited him in the cockpit. + +"Don't nobody leave that boat!" he called, "or I'll shoot." + +"Dearie me," said Roy. "He seems to be peeved. What are we up against, +anyway?" + +"Don't shoot, mister," called Tom. "You couldn't drag us out of here +with a team of horses." + +"Tell him we are Boy Scouts and fear naught," whispered Pee-wee. "Tell +him we scorn his--er--what d'you call it?" + +"Hey, mister," called Roy. "We are Boy Scouts and fear naught, and we +scorn your what-d'you-call it." + +"Haouw?" called the man. + +"What's that he's got on?" said Tom, "a merit badge?" + +"It's a cop's badge," whispered Pee-wee. "Oh, crinkums, we're pinched." + +The man approached, dripping and breathing heavily, and placed his hands +on the combing. + +"Anybody here 'sides you youngsters?" he demanded, at the same time +peering inside the cabin. + +"A few spiders," said Tom. + +"Whatcher doin' here, anyway?" + +"We're waiting for the storm to hold up," said Roy; "we beat it from +that road when----" + +"We sought refuge," Pee-wee prompted him. + +"Any port in a storm, you know," Roy smiled. "Are we pinched?" + +The man did not vouchsafe an immediate answer to this vital query. +Instead he poked his head in, peered about and then said, "Don' know's +ye are, not fur's I'm concerned. I'd like to hev ye answer me one +question honest, though." + +"You'll have to answer one for us first," called Roy, who had +disappeared within the little cabin. "Do you take two lumps of sugar in +your coffee?" + +The man now condescended to smile, as Roy brought out a steaming cup and +handed it to him. + +"Wall, ye've got all the comforts uv home, ain't ye?" + +"Give him a rice cake," whispered Pee-wee in Roy's ear. "He's all +right." + +"Won't you come in?" said Roy. "I don't know whose boat this is, but +you're welcome. I guess we didn't do any damage. We chopped up a couple +of broken stanchions, that's all." + +"I guess we'll let ye off without more'n ten year uv hard labor," said +the man, sipping his coffee. "But I'll give ye a tip. Get away from here +as soon's ye can,--hear? Old man Stanton owns this boat an' he's a bear. +He'd run ye in fer trespass and choppin' up them stanchions quick as a +gun. Ye come oft'n that outer road, ye say? Strangers here?" + +"I can see now that road is flooded," said Tom. "Guess it isn't used, is +it?" + +"This is all river land," said the man. "In extra high tides this here +land is flooded an' the only ones usin' that thar road is the fishes. +This rain keeps up another couple of days an' we get a full moon on top +o' that the old hulk'll float, by gol! Ye didn't see no men around here +last night now, did ye?" + +"Not a soul," said Roy. + +"'Cause there was a prisoner escaped up yonder last night an' when I see +the smoke comin' out o' yer flue contraption here I thought like enough +he hit this shelter." + +"Up yonder?" Tom queried. + +"You're strangers, hey?" the man repeated. + +"We're on a hike," said Tom. "We're on our way to Haverstraw and----" + +"Thence," prompted Pee-wee. + +"_Thence_ to Catskill Landing, and _thence_ to Leeds and _thence_ to +Black Lake," mocked Roy. + +"Well, thar's a big prison up yonder," said the man. + +"Oh, Sing Sing?" Roy asked. "I never thought of that." + +"Feller scaled the wall last night an' made off in a boat." + +The boys were silent. They had not realized how close they were to +Ossining, and the thought of the great prison whose name they had often +heard mentioned sobered them a little; the mere suggestion of one of its +inmates scaling its frowning wall on such a night and setting forth in +an open boat, perhaps lurking near their very shelter, cast a shadow +over them. + +"Are you--are you _sure_ you didn't see a--a crouching shadow when you +went out and got that gasoline can last night?" Pee-wee stammered. + +"I'm sorry," said Roy, "but I didn't see one crouching shadow." + +"His boat might have upset in the storm," Tom suggested. "The wind even +shook this boat; it must have been pretty rough out on the river." + +"Like enough," said the man. "Des'pret characters'll take des'pret +chances." + +"What did he do?" Pee-wee asked, his imagination thoroughly aroused. + +"Dunno," said the man. "Burglary, like enough. Well now, you youngsters +have had yer shelter'n the wust o' the storm's over. It's goin' ter keep +right on steady like this till after full moon, an' the ole shebang'll +be floppin' roun' the marsh like enough on full moon tide. My advice to +you is to git along. Not that you done no damage or what _I'd_ call +damage--but it won't do no good fer yer to run amuck o' Ole Man Stanton. +'Cause he's a reg'lar grizzly, as the feller says." + +The boys were silent a moment. Perhaps the thought of that desperate +convict stealing forth amid the wind and rain still gripped them; but it +began to dawn upon them also that they had been trespassing and that +they had taken great liberties with this ramshackle boat. + +That the owner could object to their use of it seemed preposterous. That +he could take advantage of the technical "damage" done was quite +unsupposable. But no one knows better than a boy how many "grouchy" men +there are in the world, and these very boys had once been ordered out of +John Temple's lot with threat and menace. + +"Does _everybody_ call him 'Old Man' Stanton?" Pee-wee asked. "Because +if they do that's pretty bad. Whenever somebody is known as 'Old Man' it +sounds pretty bad for him. They used to say 'Old Man Temple'--he's a man +we know that owns a lot of railroads and things; of course, he's +reformed now--he's a magnet----" + +"Magnate," corrected Roy. + +"But they _used_ to call him 'Old Man Temple'--everybody did. And it's a +sure sign--you can always tell," Pee-wee concluded. + +"Wall, they call _me_ 'Ole Man Flint,'" said the visitor, "so I +guess----" + +"Oh, of course," said Pee-wee, hastily, "I don't say it's always so, and +besides you're a--a----" + +"Sheriff," Mr. Flint volunteered. + +"So you got to be kind of strict--and--and grouchy--like." + +The sheriff handed his empty cup to Roy and smiled good-naturedly. + +"Where does Old Man Stanton live?" asked Tom, who had been silent while +the others were talking. + +"'Long the Nyack road, but he has his office in Nyack--he's a lawyer," +said the visitor, as he drew his rubber hat down over his ears. + +"Can we get back to Nyack by that other road?" + +"Whatcher goin' to do?" + +"We'll have to go and see Old Man Stanton," Tom said, "then if we don't +get pinched we'll start north." + +Mr. Flint looked at him in astonishment. + +"I wouldn't say we've done any damage," said Tom in his stolid way, "and +I believe in that about any port in a storm. But if he's the kind of a +man who would think different, then we've got to go and tell him, that's +all. We can pay him for the stanchions we chopped up." + +"Wall, you're a crazy youngster, that's all, but if yer sot on huntin' +fer trouble, yer got only yerself to blame. Ye'll go before a justice uv +the peace, the whole three uv year, and be fined ten dollars apiece, +likely as not, an' I don't believe ye've got twenty-five dollars between +the lot uv yer." + +"Right you are," said Roy. "We are poor but honest, and we spurn--don't +we, Pee-wee?" + +"Sure we do," agreed Pee-wee. + +"Poverty is no disgrace," said Roy dramatically. + +The man, though not overburdened with a sense of humor, could not help +smiling at Roy and he went away laughing, but scarcely crediting their +purpose to venture into the den of "Old Man Stanton." "They're a queer +lot," he said to himself. + +Within a few minutes the boys had gathered up their belongings, repacked +their duffel bags and were picking their way across the marsh toward the +drier road. + +"We're likely to land in jail," said Pee-wee, mildly protesting. + +"It isn't a question of whether we land in jail or not," said Tom, +stolidly; "it's just a question of what we ought to do." + +"_We_ should worry," said Roy. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE "GOOD TURN" + + +It was a draggled and exceedingly dubious-looking trio that made their +way up the main street of Nyack. They had no difficulty in finding the +office of "Old Man Stanton," which bore a conspicuous sign: + + WILMOUTH STANTON + COUNSELLOR AT LAW + +"He'd--he'd have to get out a warrant for us first, wouldn't he?" +Pee-wee asked, apprehensively. + +"That'll be easy," said Roy. "If all goes well, I don't see why we +shouldn't be in Sing Sing by three o'clock." + +"We're big fools to do this," said Pee-wee. "A scout is supposed to +be--cautious." But he followed the others up the stairs and stepped +bravely in when Tom opened the door. + +They found themselves in the lion's den with the lion in close +proximity glaring upon them. He sat at a desk opening mail and looked +frowningly at them over his spectacles. He was thin and wiry, his gray +hair was rumpled in a way which suggested perpetual perplexity or +annoyance, and his general aspect could not be said to be either +conciliatory or inviting. + +"Well, sir," he said, crisply. + +"Are you Mr. Stanton?" Tom asked. "We are Scouts," he added, as the +gentleman nodded perfunctorily, "and we came from Bridgeboro. We're on +our way to camp. Last night we got caught in the rain and we ran----" + +"Took refuge," whispered Pee-wee. + +"For that old boat on the marsh. This morning we heard it was yours, so +we came to tell you that we camped in it last night. We made a fire in a +can, but I don't think we did any harm, except we chopped up a couple of +old stanchions. We thought they were no good, but, of course, we +shouldn't have taken them without leave." + +Mr. Stanton stared at him with an ominous frown. "Built a fire in a +can?" said he. "Do you mean in the boat?" + +"We used the exhaust for a draught," said Roy. + +"Oh--and what brings you here?" + +"To tell you," said Tom, doggedly. "A man came and told us you owned the +boat. He said you might have us arrested, so we came to let you know +about what we did." + +"We didn't come because we wanted to be arrested," put in Pee-wee. + +"I see," said Mr. Stanton, with the faintest suggestion of a smile. +"Isn't it something new," he added, "running into the jaws of death? +Boys generally run the other way and don't go hunting for trouble." + +"Well, I'll tell you how it is," said Pee-wee, making the conversation +his own, somewhat to Roy's amusement. "Of course, a scout has got to be +cautious--but he's got to be fearless too. I was kind of scared when I +heard you were a lawyer----" + +Mr. Stanton's grim visage relaxed into an unwilling, but unmistakable, +smile. + +"And another thing I heard scared me, but----" + +Tom, seeing where Pee-wee was drifting, tried to stop him, but Roy, +knowing that Pee-wee always managed to land on top, and seeing the smile +on Mr. Stanton's forbidding countenance, encouraged him to go on, and +presently the mascot of the Silver Foxes was holding the floor. + +"A scout has to deduce--that's one of the things we learn, and if you +heard somebody called 'Old Man Something-or-other,' why, you'd deduce +something from it, wouldn't you? And you'd be kind of scared-like. But +even if you deduce that a man is going to be mad and gruff, kind of, +even still you got to remember that you're a scout and if you damaged +his property you got to go and tell him, anyway. You got to go and tell +him even if you go to jail. Don't you see? Maybe you don't know much +about the scouts----" + +"No," said Mr. Stanton, "I'm afraid I don't. But I'm glad to know that I +am honored by a nickname--even so dubious a one. Do you think you were +correct in your deductions?" he added. + +"Well, I don't know," began Pee-wee. "I can see--well, anyway there's +another good thing about a scout--he's got to admit it if he's wrong." + +Mr. Stanton laughed outright. It was a rusty sort of laugh, for he did +not laugh often--but he laughed. + +"The only things I know about Boy Scouts," said he, "I have learned in +the last twenty-four hours. You tell me that they can convert an +exhaust pipe into a stove flue, and I have learned they can bring a +bird down out of a tree without so much as a bullet or a stone (I have +to believe what my little daughter tells me), and that they take the +road where they think trouble awaits them on account of a +principle--that they walk up to the cannon's mouth, as it were--I am a +very busy man and no doubt a very hard and disagreeable one, but I can +afford to know a little more about these scouts, I believe." + +"I'll tell you all about them," said Pee-wee, sociably. "Jiminys, I +never dreamed you were that girl's father." + +Mr. Stanton swung around in his chair and looked at him sharply. "Who +are you boys?" + +"We came from Bridgeboro in New Jersey," spoke up Roy, "and we're going +up the river roads as far as Catskill Landing. Then we're going to hit +inland for our summer camp." + +Mr. Stanton was silent for a few moments, looking keenly at them while +they stood in some suspense. + +"Well," he said, soberly, "I see but one way out of the difficulty. The +stanchions you destroyed were a part of the boat. The boat is of no use +to me without them. I suggest, therefore, that you take the boat along +with you. It belonged to my son and it has been where it now lies ever +since the storm in which his life was lost. I have not seen the inside +of it since--I do not want to see the inside of it," he added brusquely, +moving a paperweight about on his desk. "It is only three years old," he +went on after a moment's uncomfortable pause, "and like some people it +is not as bad as it looks." + +The boys winced a little at this thrust. Mr. Stanton was silent for a +few moments and Pee-wee was tempted to ask him something about his son, +but did not quite dare to venture. + +"I think the boat can very easily be removed to the river with a little +of the ingenuity which you scouts seem to have, and you may continue +your journey in her, if you care to. You may consider it a--a present +from my daughter, whom you made so happy yesterday." + +For a moment the boys hardly realized the meaning of his words. Then Tom +spoke. + +"We have a rule, Mr. Stanton, that a scout cannot accept anything for a +service. If he does, it spoils it all. It's great, your offering us the +boat and it seems silly not to take it, but----" + +"Very well," said Mr. Stanton, proceeding to open his letters, "if you +prefer to go to jail for destroying my stanchions, very well. Remember +you are dealing with a lawyer." Roy fancied he was chuckling a little +inwardly. + +"That's right," said Pee-wee in Tom's ear. "There's no use trying to get +the best of a lawyer--a scout ought to be--to be modest; we better take +it, Tom." + +"There's a difference between payment for a service and a token of +gratitude," said Mr. Stanton, looking at Tom. "But we will waive all +that. I cannot allow the Boy Scouts to be laying down the law for me. By +your own confession you have destroyed my stanchions and as a citizen it +is my duty to take action. But if I were to give you a paper dated +yesterday, assigning the boat to you, then it would appear that you had +simply trespassed and burglariously entered your own property and +destroyed your own stanchions and I would not have a leg to stand upon. +My advice to you as a lawyer is to accept such a transfer of title and +avoid trouble." + +He began ostentatiously to read one of his letters. + +"He's right, Tom," whispered Pee-wee, "It's what you call a teckinality. +Gee, we better take the boat. There's no use trying to beat a lawyer. +He's got the right on his side." + +"I don't know," said Tom, doubtfully. He, too, fancied that Mr. Stanton +was laughing inwardly, but he was not good at repartee and the lawyer +was too much for him. It was Roy who took the situation in hand. + +"It seems ungrateful, Mr. Stanton, even to talk about whether we'll take +such a peach of a gift. Tom here is always thinking about the law--our +law--and Pee-wee--we call this kid Pee-wee--he's our specialist on doing +good turns. They're both cranks in different ways. I know there's a +difference, as you say, between just a present and a reward. And it +seems silly to say thank you for such a present, just as if it was a +penknife or something like that. But we do thank you and we'll take the +boat. I just happened to think of a good name for it while you were +talking. It was the good turn Pee-wee did yesterday--about the bird, I +mean--that made you offer it to us and your giving it to us is a good +turn besides, so I guess we'll call it the 'Good Turn.'" + +"You might call it the 'Teckinality,'" suggested Mr. Stanton with a +glance at Pee-wee. + +"All right," he added, "I'll send one of my men down later in the day +to see about getting her in the water. I've an idea a block and falls +will do the trick. But you'd better caulk her up with lampwick and give +her a coat of paint in the meantime." + +He went to the door with them and as they turned at the foot of the +stairs and called back another "Thank you," Roy noticed something in his +face which had not been there before. + +"I bet he's thinking of his son," said he. + +"Wonder how he died," said Tom. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BON VOYAGE! + + +"Now, you see," said Pee-wee, "how a good turn can evolute." + +"Can what?" said Tom. + +"Evolute." + +"It could neverlute with me," observed Roy. "Gee, but we've fallen in +soft! You could have knocked me down with a toothpick. I wonder what our +sleuth friend, the sheriff, will say." + +The sheriff said very little; he was too astonished to say much. So were +most of the people of the town. When they heard that "Old Man Stanton" +had given Harry Stanton's boat to some strange boys from out of town, +they said that the loss of his son must have affected his mind. The boys +of the neighborhood, incredulous, went out on the marsh the next day +when the rain held up, and stood about watching the three strangers at +work and marvelling at "Old Man Stanton's" extraordinary generosity. + +"Aw, he handed 'em a lemon!" commented the wiseacre. "That boat'll never +run--it won't even float!" + +But Harry Stanton's cruising launch was no lemon. It proved to be +staunch and solid. There wasn't a rotten plank in her. Her sorry +appearance was merely the superficial shabbiness which comes from disuse +and this the boys had neither the time nor the money to remedy; but the +hull and the engine were good. + +To the latter Roy devoted himself, for he knew something of gas engines +by reason of the two automobiles at his own house. They made a list of +the things they needed, took another hike into Nyack and came back laden +with material and provisions. Roy poured a half-gallon or so of kerosene +into each of the two cylinders and left it over night. The next morning +when he drained it off the wheel turned over easily enough. A set of +eight dry cells, some new wiring, a couple of new plugs, a little +session with a pitted coil, a little more gas, a little less air, a +little more gas, and finally the welcome first explosion, so dear to the +heart of the motor-boatist, rewarded Roy's efforts of half a day. + +"Stop it! Stop it!" shrieked Pee-wee from outside. "I hung the paint +can on the propeller! I'm getting a green shower bath!" + +He poked his head over the combing, his face, arms and clothing +bespattered with copper paint. + +"Never mind, kiddo," laughed Roy, "It's all in the game. She runs like a +dream. Step a little closer, ladies and gentlemen, and view the leopard +boy. Pee-wee, you're a sight! For goodness' sakes, get some sandpaper!" + +The two days of working on the _Good Turn_ were two days of fun. It was +not necessary to caulk her lower seams for the dampness of the marsh had +kept them tight, and the seams above were easy. They did not bother +about following the water-line and painting her free-board white; a coat +of copper paint over the whole hull sufficed. They painted the sheathing +of the cockpit a common-sense brown, "neat but not gaudy," as Roy said. +The deck received a coat of an unknown color which their friend, the +sheriff, brought them saying he had used it on his chicken-coop. The +engine they did in aluminum paint, the fly-wheel in a gaudy red, and +then they mixed what was left of all the paints. + +"I bet we get a kind of blackish white," said Pee-wee. + +"I bet it's green," said Tom. + +But it turned out to be a weak silvery gray and with this they painted +the cabin, or rather half the cabin, for their paint gave out. + +They sat until long after midnight in the little cabin after their first +day's work, but were up and at it again bright and early in the morning, +for Mr. Stanton's men were coming with the block and falls at high tide +in the evening to haul the _Good Turn_ back into her watery home. + +Pee-wee spent a good part of the day throwing out superfluous junk and +tidying up the little cabin, while Tom and Roy repaired the rubbing-rail +where it had broken loose and attended to other slight repairs on the +outside. + +The dying sunlight was beginning to flicker on the river and the three +were finishing their supper in the cabin when Tom, looking through the +porthole, called, "Oh, here comes the truck and an automobile just in +front of it!" + +Sure enough, there on the road was the truck with its great coil of +hempen rope and its big pulleys, accompanied by two men in overalls. +Pee-wee could not repress his exuberance as the trio clambered up on the +cabin roof and waved to the little cavalcade. + +"In an hour more she'll be in the water," he shouted, "and we'll----" + +"We'll anchor till daylight," concluded Roy. + +In another moment a young girl, laden with bundles, had left the +automobile and was picking her way across the marsh. It proved to be the +owner of the fugitive bird. + +"I've brought you all the things that belong to the boat," she said, +"and I'm going to stay and see it launched. My father was coming too but +he had a meeting or something or other. Isn't it perfectly glorious how +you chopped up the stanchions----" + +"Great," said Roy. "It shows the good that comes out of breaking the +law. If we hadn't chopped up the stanchions----" + +"Oh, crinkums, look at this!" interrupted Pee-wee. He was handling the +colored bow lamp. + +"And here's the compass, and here's the whistle, and here's the +fog-bell," said the girl, unloading her burden with a sigh of relief. +"And here's the flag for the stern and here--look--I made this all by +myself and sat up till eleven o'clock to do it--see!" + +She unfolded a cheese-cloth pennant with the name _Good Turn_ sewed upon +it. "You have to fly this at the bow in memory of your getting my bird +for me," she said. + +"We'll fly it at the bow in memory of what you and your father have done +for _us_," said Tom. + +"And here's some fruit, and here's some salmon, and here's some pickled +something or other--I got them all out of the pantry and they weigh a +ton!" + +There was no time for talking if the boat was to be got to the river +before dark, and the boys fell to with the men while the girl looked +about the cabin with exclamations of surprise. + +"Isn't it perfectly lovely," she called to Tom, who was outside +encircling the hull with a double line of heavy rope, under the men's +direction. "I never saw anything so cute and wasn't it a fine idea +giving it to you!" + +"Bully," said Tom. + +"It was just going to ruin here," she said, "and it was a shame." + +It was a busy scene that followed and the boys had a glimpse of the +wonderful power of the block and falls. To an enormous tree on the +roadside a gigantic three-wheel pulley was fastened by means of a metal +band around the lower part of the trunk. Several other pulleys between +this and the boat multiplied the hauling power to such a degree that one +person pulling on the loose end which was left after the rope had been +passed back and forth many times through the several pulleys, could +actually move the boat. The hull was completely encircled, the rope +running along the sides and around the stern with another rope below +near the keel so that the least amount of strain would be put upon her. + +They hitched the horses to the rope's end and as the beasts plunged +through the yielding marsh the boat came reeling and lurching toward the +road. Here they laid planks and rollers and jacked her across. This was +not so much a matter of brute strength as of skill. The two men with the +aid of the Stanton chauffeur were able, with props of the right length, +to keep the _Good Turn_ on an even keel, while the boys removed and +replaced the rollers. It was interesting to see how the bulky hull could +be moved several hundred feet, guided and urged across a road and +retarded upon the down grade to the river by two or three men who knew +just how to do it. + +Cautiously the rollers were retarded with obstructing sticks, as the +men, balancing the hull upright, let her slowly down the slope into the +water. Pee-wee stood upon the road holding the rope's end and a thrill +went through him when he felt the rocking and bobbing of the boat as it +regained its wonted home, and at last floated freely in the water. + +"Hang on to that, youngster," called one of the men. "She's where she +can do as she likes now." + +As the _Good Turn_, free at last from prosaic rollers and plank tracks, +rolled easily in the swell, pulling gently upon the rope which the +excited Pee-wee held, it seemed that she must be as pleased as her new +owners were, at finding herself once more in her natural home. How +graceful and beautiful she looked now, in the dying light! There is +nothing so clumsy looking as a boat on shore. To one who has seen a +craft "laid up," it is hardly recognizable when launched. + +"Well, there ye are," said one of the men, "an' 'tain't dark yet +neither. You can move 'er by pullin' one finger now, hey? She looks +mighty nat'ral, don't she, Bill? Remember when we trucked her up from +the freight station and dumped her in three year ago? She was the +_Nymph_ then. Gol, how happy that kid was--you remember, Bill? I'll tell +_you_ kids now what I told him then--told him right in front of his +father; I says, 'Harry, you remember she's human and treat her as such,' +that's what I says ter him. _You_ remember, Bill." + +Roy noticed that the girl had strolled away and was standing in the +gathering darkness a few yards distant, gazing at the boat. The clumsy +looking hull, in which the boys had taken refuge, seemed trim and +graceful now, and Roy was reminded of the fairy story of the ugly +duckling, who was really a swan, but whose wondrous beauty was +unappreciated until it found itself among its own kindred. + +"Yes, sir, that's wot I told him, 'cause I've lived on the river here +all my life, ain't I, Bill, an' I know. Yer don't give an automobile no +name, an' yer don't give an airyplane no name, an' yer don't give a +motorcycle nor a bicycle no name, but yer give a boat a name 'cause +she's human. She'll be cranky and stubborn an' then she'll be soft and +amiable as pie--that's 'cause she's human. An' that's why a man'll let a +old boat stan' an' rot ruther'n sell it. 'Cause it's human and it kinder +gets him. You treat her as such, you boys." + +"How did Harry Stanton die?" Tom asked. + +The man, with a significant motion of his finger toward the lone figure +of the girl, drew nearer and the boys gathered about him. + +"The old gent didn' tell ye, hey?" + +"Not a word." + +"Hmmm--well, Harry was summat older'n you boys, he was gettin' to be a +reg'lar young man. Trouble with him was he didn' know what he wanted. +First off, he must have a horse, 'n' then he must have a boat, so th' +old man, he got him this boat. He's crusty, but he's all to the good, +th' old man is." + +"You bet your life he is," said Pee-wee. + +"Well, Harry an' Benty Willis--you remember Benty, Bill--him an' Benty +Willis was out in the _Nymph_--that's this here very boat. They had 'er +anchored up a ways here, right off Cerry's Hill, an' they was out in the +skiff floppin' 'round--some said fishin'." + +"They was bobbin' fer eels, that's wot they was doin'," said the other +man. + +"Well, wotever they was doin' it was night 'n' thar was a storm. An' +that's every bloomin' thing me or you or anybody else'll ever know about +it. The next day Croby Risbeck up here was out fer his nets an' he come +on the skiff swamped, over there off'n that point. An' near it was +Benty Willis." + +"Drowned?" asked Roy. + +"Drownded. He must o' tried to keep afloat by clingin' t' the skiff, but +she was down to her gunnel an' wouldn' keep a cat afloat. He might o' +kep' his head out o' water a spell clingin' to it. All I know is he was +drownded when he was found. Wotever become o' that skiff, Bill?" + +"And what about Mr. Stanton's son?" Roy asked. + +"Well, they got his hat an' his coat that he must a' thrown off an' +that's all. Th' old man 'ud never look at the launch again. He had her +brought over'n' tied up right about here, an' there she stood till the +floods carried her up over this here road and sot her down in the +marsh." + +"Did the skiff belong with her?" Roy asked. + +"Sure enough; always taggin' on behind." + +"How did they think it happened?" asked Tom. + +"Wall, fer one thing, it was a rough night an' they may uv jest got +swamped. But agin, it's a fact that Harry knew how to swim; he was a +reg'lar water-rat. Now, what I think is this. Th' only thing 't 'd +prevent that lad gettin' ashore'd be his gettin' killed--not drowned, +but _killed_." + +"You don't mean murdered?" Tom asked. + +"Well, if they was swamped by the big night boat, an' he got mixed up +with the paddle wheel, I don't know if ye'd call it murder, but it'd be +killin', sure enough. Leastways, they never got him, an' it's my belief +he was chopped up. Take a tip from me, you boys, an' look out fer the +night boat, 'cause the night boat ain't a-goin' t' look out fer you." + +The girl, strolling back, put an end to their talk, but it was clear +that she, too, must have been thinking of that fatal night, for her eyes +were red and she seemed less vivacious. + +"You must be careful," said she, "there are a good many accidents on the +river. My father told me to tell you you'd better not do much traveling +at night. I want to see you on board, and then I must go home," she +added. + +She held out her hand and Roy, who was in this instance best suited to +speak for the three, grasped it. + +"There's no use trying to thank you and your father," he said. "If you'd +given us some little thing we could thank you, but it seems silly to say +just the same thing when we have a thing like this given to us, and yet +it seems worse for us to go away without saying anything. I guess you +know what I mean." + +"You must promise to be careful--can you all swim?" + +"We are scouts," laughed Roy. + +"And that means you can do anything, I suppose." + +"No, not that," Roy answered, "but we do want to tell you how much we +thank you--you and your father." + +"Especially you," put in Pee-wee. + +She smiled, a pretty wistful smile, and her eyes glistened. "You did +more for me," she said, "you got my bird back. I care more for that bird +than I could ever care for any boat. My brother brought it to me from +Costa Rica." + +She stepped back to the auto. The chauffeur was already in his place, +and the two men were coiling up their ropes and piling the heavy planks +and rollers on board the truck. The freshly painted boat was growing dim +in the gathering darkness and the lordly hills across the river were +paling into gray again. As the little group paused, a deep, melodious +whistle re-echoed from the towering heights and the great night boat +came into view, her lights aloft, plowing up midstream. The _Good Turn_ +bobbed humbly like a good subject as the mighty white giant passed. The +girl watched the big steamer wistfully and for a moment no one spoke. + +"Was your brother--fond of traveling?" Roy ventured. + +"Yes, he was crazy for it," she answered, "and you can't bring _him_ +back as you brought my bird back--you _can't_ do everything after all." + +It was Tom Slade who spoke now. "We couldn't do any more than try," said +he. He spoke in that dull, heavy manner, and it annoyed Roy, for it +seemed as if he were making fun of the girl's bereavement. + +Perhaps it seemed the same to her, for she turned the subject at once. +"I'm going to sit here until you are in the boat," she said. + +They pulled the _Good Turn_ as near the shore as they could bring her +without grounding for the tide was running out, and Pee-wee held her +with the rope while the others went aboard over a plank laid from the +shore to the deck. Then Pee-wee followed, hurrying, for there was +nothing to hold her now. + +They clambered up on the cabin, Roy waving the naval flag, and Pee-wee +the name pennant, while Tom cast the anchor, for already the _Good Turn_ +was drifting. + +"Good-bye!" they cried. + +"Good-bye!" she called back, waving her handkerchief as the auto +started, "and good luck to you!" + +"We'll try to do a good turn some day to make up," shouted Pee-wee. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE MYSTERY + + +"What I don't understand," said Tom, in his dull way, "is how if that +fellow was drowned or killed that night, he managed to get back to this +boat again--that's what gets me." + +"What?" said Roy. + +"What are you talking about?" chimed in Pee-wee. + +They were sitting in the little cabin of the _Good Turn_ eating rice +cakes, about an hour after the launching. The boat rocked gently at its +moorings, the stars glittered in the wide expanse of water, the tiny +lights in the neighboring village kept them cheery company as they +chatted there in the lonesome night with the hills frowning down upon +them. It was very quiet and this, no less than the joyous sense of +possession of this cosy home, kept them up, notwithstanding their +strenuous two days of labor. + +"Just what I said," said Tom. "See that board you fixed the oil stove +on? I believe that was part of that skiff. You can see the letters +N-Y-M-P-H even under the paint. That strip was in the boat all the time. +How did it get here? That's what _I'd_ like to know." + +Roy laid down his "flopper" and examined the board carefully, the +excited Pee-wee joining him. It was evidently the upper strip of the +side planking from a rowboat and at one end, under the diluted paint +which they had here used, could be dimly traced the former name of the +launch. + +"What-do-you-know-about-that?" ejaculated Roy. + +"It's a regular mystery," said Pee-wee; "that's one thing I like, a +mystery." + +"If that's a part of this boat's skiff," said Tom, "then it proves two +things. It proves that the boat was damaged--no fellow could pull a +plank from it like that; and it proves that that fellow came back to the +launch. It proves that he was injured, too. That man said he could swim. +Then why should he bring this board back with him unless it was to help +him keep afloat?" + +"He wouldn't need to drag it aboard," said Roy. + +"Now you spoil it all," put in Pee-wee. + +"I don't know anything about that," said Tom, "but that board didn't +drift back and climb in by itself. It must have been here all the time. +I suppose the other fellow--the one they found drowned--_might_ have got +it here, some way," he added. + +"Not likely," said Roy. "If he'd managed to get back to the launch with +the board, he wouldn't have jumped overboard again just to get drowned. +He'd have managed to stay aboard." + +There was silence for a few minutes while Roy drummed on the plank with +his fingers and Pee-wee could hardly repress his excitement at the +thought that they were on the track of a real adventure. Tom Slade had +"gone and done it again." He was always surprising them by his stolid +announcement of some discovery which opened up delectable possibilities. +And smile as he would (especially in view of Pee-wee's exuberance), Roy +could not but see that here was something of very grave significance. + +"That's what I meant," drawled Tom, "when I told her that we could +_try_--to find her brother." + +This was a knockout blow. + +"This trip of ours is going to be just like a book," prophesied Pee-wee, +excitedly; "there's a--there's a--long lost brother, and--and--a deep +mystery!" + +"Sure," said Roy. "We'll have to change our names; I'll be Roy Rescue, +you be Pee-wee Pinkerton, the boy sleuth, and Tom'll be Tom Trustful. +What d'you say, Tom?" + +Tom made no answer and for all Roy's joking, he was deeply interested. +Like most important clues, the discovery was but a little thing, yet it +could not be accounted for except on the theory that Harry Stanton had +somehow gotten back to the launch after the accident, whatever the +accident was. It meant just that--nothing less and nothing more; though, +indeed, it did mean more to Pee-wee and as he slept that night, in the +gently rocking boat, he dreamed that he had vowed a solemn vow to Mr. +Stanton's daughter to "find her brother or perish in the attempt." He +carried a brace of pistols, and sailing forth with his trusty chums, he +landed in the island of Madagascar, to which Harry Stanton had been +carried, bound hand and foot, in an aeroplane. The three, undaunted, +then built a Zeppelin and sailed up to the summit of a dizzy crag where +they rescued the kidnapped youth and on reaching home, Mr. Stanton gave +them a sea-going yacht and a million dollars each for pocket money. +When he awoke from this thrilling experience he found that the _Good +Turn_ was chugging leisurely up the river in the broad daylight. + +The boat behaved very well, indeed. She leaked a little from the strain +of launching, but the engine pumped the water out faster than it came +in. All day long they lolled in the cockpit or on the cabin roof, taking +turns at the steering. Roy, who best understood gas engines, attended to +the motor, but it needed very little attention except that it missed on +high speed, so he humored it and they ambled along at "sumpty-sump miles +an hour," as Roy said, "but what care we," he added, "as long as she +goes." They anchored for several hours in the middle of the day and +fished, and had a mess of fresh perch for luncheon. + +Naturally, the topic of chief interest was the possibility that Harry +Stanton was living, but the clue which appeared to indicate that much +suggested nothing further, and the question of why he did not return +home, if he were indeed alive was a puzzling one. + +"His sister said he had been to Costa Rica, and was fond of traveling," +suggested Tom. "Maybe his parents objected to his going away from home +so he went this way--as long as the chance came to him--and let them +think he was drowned." + +Roy, sitting on the cabin roof with his knees drawn up, shook his head. +"Or maybe he left the boat again and tried to swim to shore to go home, +and didn't make it," he added. + +"That's possible," said Tom, "but then they'd probably have found his +body." + +"We aren't sure he's alive," Roy said thoughtfully, "but it means a +whole lot not to be sure that he's dead." + +"Maybe he was made away with by someone who wanted the boat," said +Pee-wee. "Maybe a convict from the prison killed him--you never can +tell. Jiminys, it's a mystery, sure." + +"You bet it is," said Roy. "The plot grows thicker. If Sir Guy Weatherby +were only here, or Detective Darewell--or some of those story-book ginks +they----" + +"They probably wouldn't have noticed the plank from the skiff," +suggested Pee-wee. + +Roy laughed and then fell to thinking. "Gee, it would be great if we +could find him!" he said. + +And there the puzzling matter ended, for the time being; but the _Good +Turn_ took on a new interest because of the mystery with which it was +associated and Pee-wee was continually edifying his companions with +startling and often grewsome theories as to the fate or present +whereabouts of Harry Stanton, until--until that thing happened which +turned all their thoughts from this puzzle and proved that bad turns as +well as good ones have the boomerang quality of returning upon their +author. + +It was the third afternoon of their cruise, or their "flop" as Roy +called it, for they had flopped along rather than cruised, and the _Good +Turn's_ course would have indicated, as he remarked, a fit of the blind +staggers. They had paused to fish and to bathe; they had thrown together +a makeshift aquaplane from the pieces of an old float which they had +found, and had ridden gayly upon it; and their course had been so +leisurely and rambling that they had not yet reached Poughkeepsie, when +all of a sudden the engine stopped. + +Roy went through the usual course of procedure to start it up, but +without result. There was not a kick left in it. Silently he unscrewed +the cap on the deck, pushed a stick into the tank and lifted it +out--dry. + +"Boys," said he, solemnly, "there is not a drop of gasoline in the tank. +The engine must have used it all up. Probably it has been using it all +the time----" + +"You make me sick," said Pee-wee. + +"I have known engines to do that before." + +"Didn't I tell you to get gasoline in Newburgh?" demanded Pee-wee. + +"You did, Sir Walter, and would that we had taken your advice; but I +trusted the engine and it has evidently been using the gasoline while +our backs were turned. _We_ should worry! You don't suppose it would run +on witch hazel, do you?" + +"Didn't I tell----" began Pee-wee. + +"If we could only reduce friend Walter to a liquid," said Roy. "I think +we could get started all right--he's so explosive." + +"Bright boy," said Tom. + +"Oh, I'm a regular feller, I am," said Roy. "I knew that engine would +stop when there wasn't any more gasoline--I just felt it in my bones. +But what care we! + + 'Oh, we are merry mountaineers, + And have no carking cares or fears-- + Or gasoline.' + +Get out the oars, scouts!" + +So they got out the oars and with the aid of these and a paddle +succeeded in making the shore where they tied up to the dilapidated +remnants of what had once been a float. + +"There must be a village in the neighborhood," said Tom, "or there +wouldn't be a float here." + +"Sherlock Holmes Slade is at it again," said Roy. It would have been a +pretty serious accident that Roy wouldn't have taken gayly. "Pee-wee, +you're appointed a committee to look after the boat while Tomasso and I +go in search of adventure--and gasoline. There must be a road up there +somewhere and if there's a road I dare say we can find a garage--maybe +even a village. Get things ready for supper, Pee-wee, and when we get +back I'll make a Silver Fox omelet for good luck." + +The spot where they had made a landing was at the foot of precipitous +hills between which and the shore ran the railroad tracks. Tom and Roy, +carrying a couple of gasoline cans, started along a road which led +around the lower reaches of one of these hills. As Pee-wee stood upon +the cabin watching them, the swinging cans were brightened by the rays +of the declining sun, and there was a chill in the air as the familiar +grayness fell upon the heights, bringing to the boy that sense of +loneliness which he had felt before. + +He was of the merriest temperament, was Pee-wee, and, as he had often +said, not averse to "being jollied." But he was withal very sensitive +and during the trip he had more than once fancied that Tom and Roy had +fallen together to his own exclusion, and it awakened in him now and +then a feeling that he was the odd number of the party. He had tried to +ingratiate himself with them, though to be sure no particular effort was +needed to do that, yet sometimes he saw, or fancied he saw, little +things which made him feel that in important matters he was left out of +account. Roy would slap him on the shoulder and tousle his hair, but he +would ask Tom's advice--and take it. Perhaps Roy had allowed his +propensity for banter and jollying to run too far in his treatment of +Pee-wee. At all events, the younger boy had found himself a bit +chagrined at times that their discussions had not been wholly +three-handed. And now, as he watched the others hiking off through the +twilight, and heard their laughter, he recalled that it was usually _he_ +who was appointed a "committee to stay and watch the boat." + +This is not a pleasant train of thought when you are standing alone in +the bleakness and sadness and growing chill of the dying day, with +tremendous nature piled all about you, and watching your two companions +as they disappear along a lonely road. But the mood was upon him and it +did not cheer him when Roy, turning and making a megaphone of his hands, +called, "Look out and don't fall into the gas tank, Pee-wee!" + +He _had_ reminded them that they had better buy gasoline at Newburgh, +while they had the chance. Roy had answered jokingly telling Pee-wee +that he had better buy a soda in the city while _he_ had the chance, and +Tom had added, "I guess the kid thinks we want to drink it." + +Well, there they were hiking it up over the hills now in quest of +gasoline and still joking him. + +If Pee-wee had remembered Roy's generous pleasure in the "parrot stunt," +he would have been much happier, but instead he allowed his imagination +to picture Tom and Roy in the neighboring village, having a couple of +sodas--perhaps taking a flyer at a movie show. + +He did as much as he could toward getting supper, and when it grew dark +and still they did not return, he clambered up on the cabin roof again +and sat there gazing off into the night. But still they did not come. + +"Gee, I'm a Silver Fox, anyway," he said; "you'd think he'd want one of +his own patrol with him _sometimes_--gee!" + +He rose and went down into the cabin where the dollar watch which hung +on a nail told him that it was eight o'clock. Then it occurred to him +that it would serve them right if he got his own supper and was in his +bunk and asleep when they returned. It would be a sort of revenge on +them. He would show them, at least, that he could get along very well by +himself, and by way of doing so he would make some rice cakes. Roy was +not the only one who could make rice cakes. He, Pee-wee, could make them +if nobody stood by guying him. + +He had never wielded the flopper; that had been Roy's province; but he +could, all right, he told himself. So he dug into Roy's duffel bag for +the recipe book which was famous in the troop; which told the secrets of +the hunter's stew; which revealed the mystery of plum-duff and raisin +pop-overs in all their luscious details and which set you on the right +path for the renowned rice cakes. + +Between the leaves, right where the rice cake recipe revealed itself to +the hungry inquirer, was a folded paper which dropped out as Pee-wee +opened the book. For all he knew it contained the recipe so he held it +under the lantern and read: + + "Dear Mary: + + "Since you butted in, Tom and I have decided that it would be + better for Pee-wee to go with _him_, and I'll stay home. Anyway, + that's what I've decided. So you'll get your wish all right and I + should worry. + + "Roy." + +Pee-wee read it twice over, then he laid it on the locker and sat down +and looked at it. Then he picked it up and read it over again. He did +not even realize that its discovery among Roy's things would indicate +that it had never been sent. Sent or not, it had been written. + +So this was the explanation of Roy's invitation that he accompany them +on the trip. Mary Temple had asked them to let him go. Yet, despite his +present mood, he could not believe that his own patrol leader, Roy +Blakeley, could have written this. + +"I bet Tom Slade is--I bet he's the cause of it," he said. + +He recalled now how he had talked about the trip to Mary Temple and how +she had spoken rather mysteriously about the possibility of his going +along. So it was she who was his good friend; it was to her he owed the +invitation which had come to him with such a fine air of sincerity. + +"I always--crinkums, anyway girls always seem to like me, that's one +thing," he said. "And--and Roy did, too, before Tom Slade came into the +troop." + +It was odd how he turned against Tom, making him the scapegoat for Roy's +apparent selfishness and hypocrisy. + +"They just brought me along for charity, like," he said, "'cause she +told them to. Cracky, anyway, I didn't try to make her do that--I +didn't." + +This revelation in black and white of Roy's real feeling overcame him +and as he put the letter back in the book and the book back in the +duffel bag, he could scarcely keep his hand from trembling. + +"Anyway, I knew it all the time," he said. "I could see it." + +He had no appetite for rice cakes now. He took some cakes of chocolate +and a couple of hard biscuits and stuffed them in his pocket. Then he +went out into the cockpit and listened. There was no sound of voices or +footfalls, nothing but the myriad voices of nature, or frogs croaking +nearby, of a cheery cricket somewhere on shore, of the water lapping +against the broken old wharf as the wind drove it in shoreward. + +He returned to the cabin, tore a leaf from his scout notebook and wrote, +but he had to blink his eyes to keep back the tears. + + "Dear Roy: + + "I think you'll have more fun if you two go the rest of the way + alone. I always said two's a company, three's a crowd. You've heard + me say it and I ought to have had sense enough to remember it. But + anyway, I'm not mad and I like you just as much. I'll see you at + camp. + + "WALTER HARRIS." + + "P. S.--If I had to vote again for patrol leader I'd vote for you." + +He was particular not to mention Tom by name and to address his note to +Roy. He laid it in the frying pan on the stove (in which he had +intended to make the rice cakes) and then, with his duffel bag over his +shoulder and his scout staff in hand, he stepped from the _Good Turn_, +listening cautiously for approaching footsteps, and finding the way +clear he stole away through the darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PEE-WEE'S ADVENTURE + + +A walk of a few yards or so brought him to the railroad track. He was no +longer the clown and mascot of the _Good Turn_; he was the scout, alert, +resourceful, bent on hiding his tracks. + +He did not know where he was going, more than that he was going to elude +pursuit and find a suitable spot in which to camp for the night. Matters +would take care of themselves in the daytime. He wanted to follow the +railroad tracks, for he knew that would keep him close to the river, but +he knew also that it had the disadvantage of being the very thing the +boys would suppose it most likely that he would do. For, feel as he +would toward them, he did not for a moment believe that they would let +him take himself off without searching for him. And he knew something of +Tom Slade's ability as a tracker. + +"They won't get any merit badges trailing _me_, though," he said. + +So he crossed the tracks and walked a couple of hundred feet or so up a +hill, grabbed the limb of a tree, swung up into its branches, let +himself down on the other side, and retraced his steps to the tracks and +began to walk the ties, northward. He was now thoroughly in the spirit +of the escapade and a feeling of independence seized him, a feeling that +every scout knows, that having undertaken a thing he must succeed in it. + +A walk of about ten minutes brought him to a high, roofed platform +beside the tracks, where one or two hogsheads were standing and several +cases. But there was no sign of life or habitation. It was evidently the +freight station for some town not far distant, for a couple of +old-fashioned box-cars stood on a siding, and Pee-wee contemplated them +with the joy of sudden inspiration. + +"Crinkums, that would be a dandy place to sleep," he thought, for it was +blowing up cold and he had but scant equipment. + +He went up to the nearest car and felt of the sliding door. It was the +least bit open, owing to its damaged condition, and by moving it a very +few inches more he could have slipped inside. But he paused to examine +the pasters and chalk marks on the body. One read "Buffalo--4--LLM." +There were the names of various cities and numerous strange marks. It +was evident the car had been quite a globe-trotter in its time, but as +it stood there then it seemed to Pee-wee that so it must have stood for +a dozen years and was likely to stand for a dozen years more. + +He slid the door a little farther open on its rusty hinges and climbed +inside. It was very dark and still and smelled like a stable, but +suddenly he was aware of a movement not far from him. He did not exactly +hear it, but he felt that something was moving. For a moment a cold +shudder went over him and he stood stark still, not daring to move. +Then, believing that his imagination had played a trick, he fumbled in +his duffel bag, found his flashlight and sent its vivid gleam about the +car. A young fellow in a convict's suit stood menacingly before the door +with one hand upon it, blinking and watching the boy with a lowering +aspect. His head was close-shaven and shone in the light's glare so that +he looked hardly human. He had apparently sprung to the door, perhaps +out of a sound sleep, and he was evidently greatly alarmed. Pee-wee was +also greatly alarmed, but he was no coward and he stood his ground +though his heart was pounding in his breast. + +"You ain't no bo," said the man. + +"I--I'm a scout," stammered Pee-wee, "and I was going to camp here for +the night. I didn't know there was anyone here." + +The man continued to glare at him and Pee-wee thought he had never in +his life seen such a villainous face. + +"I'll--I'll go away," he said, "I was only going to sleep here." + +The convict, still guarding the door, leered brutally at him, his head +hanging low, his lips apart, more like a beast than a man. + +"No, yer won't go 'way, nuther," he finally said; "yer ain't goin' ter +double-cross _me_, pal. Wot d'yer say yer wuz?" + +"A scout," said Pee-wee. "I don't need to stay here, you were here +first. I can camp outdoors." + +"No, yer don't," said the man. "You stay whar yer are. Yer ain't goin' +ter double-cross _me_." + +"I don't know what you mean by that," said Pee-wee. + +The convict did not offer him any explanation, only stood guarding the +door with a threatening aspect, which very much disconcerted Pee-wee. He +was a scout and he was brave, and not panicky in peril or emergency, but +the striped clothing and cropped head and stupid leer of the man before +him made him seem something less than human. His terror was more that of +an animal than of a man and his apparent inability to express himself +save by the repetition of that one sentence frightened the boy. +Apparently the creature was all instinct and no brains. + +"Yer gotta stay here," he repeated. "Yer ain't goin' ter double-cross +_me_, pal." + +Then it began to dawn on Pee-wee what he meant. + +"I guess I know about you," he said, "because I heard about +your--getting away. But, anyway, if you let me go away I won't tell +anyone I saw you. I don't want to camp here now. I'll promise not to go +and tell people, if that's what you're afraid of." + +"Wot's in that bag?" asked the man. + +"My camping things." + +"Got any grub?" + +"I've got two biscuits and some chocolate." + +"Gimme it," said the man, coming closer. + +He snatched the food as fast as it was taken out of the bag, and Pee-wee +surmised that he had not eaten since his escape from prison for he +devoured it ravenously like a famished beast. + +"Got any more?" he asked, glaring into the boy's face menacingly. + +"No, I'm sorry I haven't. I escaped, too, as you might say, from my +friends--from the fellers I was with. And I only brought a little with +me." + +After a few minutes (doubtless from the stimulating effects of the +food), the convict's fear seemed to subside somewhat and he spoke a +little more freely. But Pee-wee found it very unpleasant being shut in +with him there in the darkness, for, of course, the flashlight could not +be kept burning all the time. + +"I wouldn't do yer no hurt," he assured Pee-wee. "I t'ought mebbe yer +wuz a _de_-coy. Yer ain't, are ye?" he asked suspiciously. + +"No, I'm not," said Pee-wee, "I'm just what I told you----" + +"I ain't goin' ter leave ye go free, so ye might's well shut up. I seen +pals double-cross _me_--them ez I trusted, too. Yer square, I +guess--only innercent." + +"I'd keep my word even with--I'd keep my word with you," said Pee-wee, +"just the same as with anyone. Besides, I don't see what's the use of +keeping me here. You'll have to let me go some time, you can't keep me +here forever, and you can't stay here forever, yourself." + +"If ye stan' right 'n' show ye're game," said the convict, "thar won't +no hurt come to ye. This here car's way-billed fer Buff'lo, 'n' I'm +waitin' ter be took up now. It's a grain car. Yer ain't goin' ter peach +wot I tell ye, now? I wuz put wise to it afore I come out by a railroad +bloke. I had it straight these here cars would be picked up fer Buff'lo +the nex' day after I done my trick. But they ain't took 'em up yet, an' +I'm close ter starvin' here." + +Pee-wee could not help but feel a certain sympathy with this man, wretch +though he was, who on the information of some accomplice outside the +prison, had made his escape expecting to be carried safely away the next +day and had been crouching, half-starved, in this freight car ever +since, waiting. + +"What will you do if they don't take up the car for a week?" he asked. +"They might look inside of it, too; or they might change their minds +about taking it." + +He was anxious for himself for he contemplated with terror his +threatened imprisonment, but he could not help being concerned also for +this miserable creature and he wondered what would happen if they both +remained in the car for several days more, with nothing to eat. Then, +surely, the man would be compelled to put a little faith in him and let +him go out in search of food. He wondered what he should do in that +case--what he ought to do; but that, he realized, was borrowing trouble. +Mr. Ellsworth, his scoutmaster, had once said that it is _always bad to +play false_. Well, then, would it be bad to play false with an escaped +felon--to double-cross him? Pee-wee did not know. + +His companion interrupted his train of thought "They don' look inside o' +way-billed empties--not much," he said, "an' they don't let 'em stan' so +long, nuther. I got bad luck, I did, from doin' my trick on a Friday. +They'll be 'long pretty quick, though. They reckisitioned all th' empty +grain cars fer Buff'lo. I'm lookin' ter hear th' whistle any minute, I +am, an' I got a pal waitin' fer me in the yards up ter Buff'lo, wid the +duds. When I get there 'n' get me clo's changed, mebbe I'll leave ye +come back if me pal 'n' me thinks ye kin be trusted." + +"I can be trusted now just as much as I could be trusted then," said +Pee-wee, greatly disturbed at the thought of this enforced journey; +"and how could I get back? I guess maybe you don't know anything about +scouts--maybe they weren't started when you were---- Anyway, a scout can +be trusted. Anybody'll tell you that. If he gives his word he'll keep +it. I don't know anything about what you did and if you ask me if I want +to see you get captured I couldn't tell you, because I don't know how I +feel. But if you'll let me go now I'll promise not to say anything to +anyone. I don't want to go to Buffalo. I want to go to my camp. As long +as I know about you, you got to trust me some time and you might as well +trust me now." + +If the fugitive could have seen Pee-wee's earnest face and honest eyes +as he made this pitiful appeal, he might have softened a little, even if +he had not appreciated the good sense of the boy's remarks. + +"I'd ruther get me other duds on fust, 'n' I'd like fer ter hev ye meet +me pal," he said, with the first touch of humor he had shown. "Now, if +yer go ter cuttin' up a rumpus I'll jest hev ter brain ye, see?" + +Pee-wee leaned back against the side of the car in the darkness as +despair seized him. He had always coveted adventure but this was too +much and he felt himself to be utterly helpless in this dreadful +predicament. Even as he stood there in a state of pitiable +consternation, a shrill whistle sounded in the distance, which was +echoed back from the unseen hills. + +"Dat's a freight," said the convict, quickly. + +Pee-wee listened and his last flickering hope was extinguished as he +recognized the discordant rattle and bang of the slow-moving train, +emphasized by the stillness of the night. Nearer and nearer it came and +louder grew the clank and clamor of the miscellaneous procession of box +cars. It was a freight, all right. + +"If--if you'll let me get out," Pee-wee began, on the very verge of a +panic, "if you'll let me get out----" + +The convict fumblingly took him by the throat. He could feel the big, +coarse, warm fingers pressing into the sides of his neck and it gagged +him. + +"If yer open yer head when we're bein' took up, I'll brain yer, hear +that?" he said. "Gimme that light, gimme yer knife." + +He flashed on the light, tore the scout knife from Pee-wee's belt, and +flung the frightened boy against the side of the car. Keeping the light +pointed at him, he opened the knife. The spirit of desperate resolve +seemed to have reawakened within him at the sound of that long-hoped-for +train and Pee-wee was no more to him than an insect to have his life +trampled out if he could not be used or if his use were unavailing. +Here, unmasked, was the man who had braved the tempestuous river on that +dreadful night. Truly, as the sheriff had said, "desperate characters +will take desperate chances." + +"If yer open yer head or call out or make a noise wid yer feet or poun' +de side o' de car or start a-bawlin' I'll brain ye, ye hear? Nobody gets +_me_ alive. An' if anybody comes in here 'cause o' you makin' a noise +and cryin' fer help, yer'll be the fust to git croaked--see?" + +He pointed the light straight at Pee-wee, holding the open jack-knife in +his other hand, and glared at him with a look which struck terror to the +boy's heart. Pee-wee was too frightened and exhausted to answer. He only +shook his head in acknowledgment, breathing heavily. + +In a few minutes the train had come abreast of them and stopped. They +could hear the weary puffing of the engine, and voices calling and +occasionally they caught the gleam of a lantern through the crack in +the car. Pee-wee remained very still. The convict took his stand in the +middle of the car between the two sliding doors, lowering and alert, +holding the flashlight and the clasp knife. + +Soon the train moved again, then stopped. There were calls from one end +of it to the other. Then it started again and continued to move until +Pee-wee thought it was going away, and his hope revived at the thought +that escape might yet be possible. Then the sound came nearer again and +presently the car received a jolt, accompanied by a bang. The convict +was thrown a little, but he resumed his stand, waiting, desperate, +menacing. Those few minutes must have been dreadful ones to him as he +watched the two doors, knife in hand. + +Then came more shunting and banging and calling and answering, a short, +shrill whistle and more moving and then at last the slow, continuous +progress of the car, which was evidently now at last a part of that +endless miscellaneous procession, rattling along through the night with +its innumerable companions. + +"It's lucky for them," said the convict, through his teeth, as he +relaxed. + +Pee-wee hardly knew what he meant, he had scarcely any interest, and it +was difficult to hear on account of the noise. He was too shaken up to +think clearly, but he wondered, as the rattling train moved slowly +along, how long he could go without food, how he would get back from +Buffalo, and whether this dreadful companion of his would take his +stand, like an animal at bay, whenever the train stopped. + +After a little time, when he was able to get a better grip on himself +and realize fully his terrible plight, he began to think how, after all, +the scout, with all his resource and fine courage, his tracking and his +trailing and his good turns, is pretty helpless in a real dilemma. Here +was an adventure, and rather too much of a one, and neither he nor any +other scout could extricate him from his predicament. In books they +could have done it with much brave talk, but in real life they could do +nothing. He was tired and frightened and helpless; the shock of the +pressure of those brutal fingers about his neck still distressed him, +and his head ached from it all. + +What wonder if in face of this tragical reality, the scouts with all +their much advertised resource and prowess should lose prestige a little +in his thoughts? Yet it might have been worth while for him to pause and +reflect that though the scout arm is neither brutal nor menacing, it +still has an exceedingly long reach and that it can pin you just as +surely as the cruel fingers which had fixed themselves on his own +throat. + +But he was too terrified and exhausted to think very clearly about +anything. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +TRACKS AND TRAILING + + +When the engineer blew the whistle which the convict had heard with such +satisfaction and Pee-wee with such dread, it was by way of warning two +dark figures which were about to cross the tracks. Something bright +which they carried shone in the glare of the headlight. + +"Here comes a freight," said Tom. + +"Let it come, I can't stop it," said Roy. "Je-ru-salem, this can is +heavy." + +"Same here," said Tom. + +"I wouldn't carry another can of gas this far for a prince's +ransom--whatever in the dickens that is. Look at the blisters on my +hand, will you? Gee, I'm so hungry I could eat a package of tacks. I bet +Pee-wee's been throwing duck fits. Never mind, we did a good turn. 'We +seen our duty and we done it noble.' Some grammar! They ought to put us +on the cover of the manual. Boy scouts returning from a gasoline hunt! +Good turn, turn down the gas, hey? Did you ever try tracking a freight +train? It's terribly exciting." + +"Keep still, will you!" said Tom, setting down his can. "Can't you see +I'm spilling the gasoline? Don't make me laugh." + +"The face with the smile wins," Roy rattled on. "For he ain't no slouch, +but the lad with the grouch---- Pick up your can and get off the +track--safety first!" + +"Well, then, for goodness' sake, shut up!" laughed Tom. + +It had been like this all the way back, Tom setting down his can at +intervals and laughing in spite of himself at Roy's nonsense. + +When they reached the boat Roy looked inside and called Pee-wee. + +"Where is our young hero, anyway?" he said. + +But "our young hero" was not there. They poured the gas into the tank +and then went inside where Roy discovered the note in the saucepan. He +read it, then handed it to Tom and the two stood for a moment staring at +each other, too surprised to speak. + +"What do you suppose has got into him?" exclaimed Tom. + +"Search me; unless he's mad because we left him here." + +Tom looked about as if in search of some explanation, and as usual his +scrutiny was not unfruitful. + +"It looks as if he had started to get supper," said he: "there's the +rice----" + +A sudden inspiration seized Roy. Pulling out the recipe book from his +duffel bag he opened it where the letter to Mary Temple lay. "I thought +so," he said shamefacedly. "I left the end of it sticking out to mark +the place and now it's in between the leaves. That's what did the +mischief; he must have found it." + +"You ought to have torn it up before we started," said Tom. + +"I know it, but I just stuck it in there when I was brushing up my +memory on rice cakes, and there it's been ever since. I ought never to +have written it at all, if it comes to that." + +Tom made no answer. They had never mentioned that incident which was +such an unpleasant memory to them both. + +"Well, we've got to find him, that's all," said Tom. + +"Gee, it seems as if we couldn't possibly get along without Pee-wee +now," Roy said. "I never realized how much fun it would be having him +along. Poor kid! It serves me right for----" + +"What's the use of thinking about that _now_?" said Tom, bluntly. "We've +just got to find him Come on, hurry up, get your flashlight. Every +minute we wait he's a couple of hundred feet farther away." + +For the first time in all their trip, as it seemed to Roy, Tom's spirit +and interest were fully aroused. He was as keen as a bloodhound for the +trail and instinctively Roy obeyed him. + +They hurried out without waiting for so much as a bite to eat and with +the aid of their flashlights (and thanks to the recent rains) had no +difficulty in trailing Pee-wee as far as the railroad tracks. + +"He'd either follow the track," said Tom, "or else the road we took and +hide somewhere till we passed. He wouldn't try any cross-country +business at night, I don't believe." + +"Poor kid!" was all Roy could say. The thought of that note which he had +carelessly left about and of Pee-wee starting out alone haunted him and +made him feel like a scoundrel. All his gayety had vanished and he +depended on Tom and followed his lead. He remembered only too well the +wonderful tracking stunt that Tom had done the previous summer, and now, +as he looked at that rather awkward figure, kneeling with head low, and +creeping along from tie to tie, oblivious to all but his one purpose, he +felt a certain thrill of confidence. By a sort of unspoken +understanding, he (who was the most all-round scout of them all and +looked it into the bargain) had acted as their leader and spokesman on +the trip; and Tom Slade, who could no more talk to strangers, and +especially girls, than he could fly, had followed, envying Roy's easy +manner and all-around proficiency. But Tom was a wizard in tracking, and +as Roy watched him now he could not help realizing with a pang of shame +that again it was Tom who had come to the rescue to save him from the +results of his own selfishness and ill-temper. He remembered those +words, spoken in Tom's stolid way on the night of their quarrel. "_It's +kind of like a trail in your mind and I got to hit the right trail._" He +_had_ hit the right trail then and brought Roy to his senses, and now +again when that rude, selfish note cropped up to work mischief it was +Tom who knelt down there on the railroad tracks, seeking again for the +right trail. + +"Here it is," he said at last, when he had closely examined and smelt +of a dark spot on one of the ties. "Lucky you let him clean the engine; +he must have been standing in the oil trough." + +"Good he had his sneaks on, too," said Roy, stooping. "It's like a stamp +on a pound of butter." + +It was not quite as clear as that, but if Pee-wee had prepared his +sneaks especially for making prints on wooden ties he could scarcely +have done better. In order to get at the main bearings of the engine he +had, with characteristic disregard, stood plunk in the copper drain +basin under the crank-case. The oil had undoubtedly softened the rubber +sole of his sneakers so that it held the clinging substance, and in some +cases it was possible to distinguish on the ties the half-obliterated +crisscross design of the rubber sole. + +"Come on," said Tom, "this thing is a cinch." + +"It's a shame to call it tracking," said Roy, regaining some measure of +his wonted spirits as they hurried along. "It's a blazed trail." + +And so, indeed, it was while it lasted, but suddenly it ceased and the +boys paused, puzzled. + +"Listen for trains," warned Tom. + +"There won't be any along yet a while," said Roy. "There's one stopped +up there a ways now." + +They could hear the shunting up the track, interspersed with faint +voices calling. + +"Here's where he's put one over on us," said Roy. "Poor kid." + +"Here's where he's been reading Sir Baden-Powell, you mean. Wait till I +see if he worked the boomerang trick. See that tree up there?" + +It was amazing how readily Tom assumed that Pee-wee would do just what +he had done to elude pursuit. + +"Tree's always a suspicious thing," said he; "this is a Boer +wrinkle--comes from South Africa." + +He did not bother hunting for the tracks in the hubbly ground, but made +straight for the tree. + +"Poor kid," was all he could say as he picked up a few freshly fallen +leaves and a twig or two. "He's good at climbing anyway." He examined +one of the leaves carefully with his flashlight. "Squint around," he +said to Roy, "and see if you can find where he stuck his staff in the +ground." + +Roy got down, poking his light here and there, and parting the rough +growth. + +"Here it is," said he. + +Oh, it was all easy--too easy, for a scout. It gave them no feeling of +triumph, only pity for the stout-hearted little fellow who had tried to +escape them. + +A more careful examination of the lower branches of the tree and of the +ground beneath was enough. Tom did not even bother about the prints +leading back to the railroad, but went back to the tracks and after a +few minutes picked up the trail again there. This they followed till +they came to the siding, now deserted. + +Here, for a few minutes, it did seem as if Pee-wee had succeeded in +baffling them, for the prints leaving the ties ran over to the siding +and there ended in a confused collection of footprints pointing in every +direction. Evidently, Pee-wee had paused here, but what direction he had +taken from this point they could not see. + +"This has got _me_ guessing," said Tom. + +"He was tangoing around here," said Roy, pointing his flashlight to the +ground, "that's sure. Maybe the little Indian walked the rail." + +But an inspection of the rail showed that he had not done that, unless, +indeed, the recent rain had obliterated the marks. + +They examined the platform carefully, the steps, the one or two +hogsheads, but no sign did they reveal. + +"It gets me," said Tom, as they sat down on the edge of the platform, +dangling their legs. + +"He swore he wouldn't go near a railroad--remember?" said Roy, smiling a +little wistfully. + +Tom slowly shook his head. + +"It's all my fault," said Roy. + +"Meanwhile, we're losing time," said Tom. + +"You don't suppose----" began Roy. "Where do you suppose that freight +stopped? Here?" + +Tom said nothing for a few moments. Then he jumped down and kneeling +with his light began again examining the confusion of footprints near +the siding. Roy watched him eagerly. He felt guilty and discouraged. Tom +was apparently absorbed with some fresh thought. Around one footprint he +drew a ring in the soil. Then he got up and crept along by the rail +throwing his light upon it. About twelve or fifteen feet along this he +paused, and crossing suddenly, examined the companion rail exactly +opposite. Then he straightened up. + +"What is it?" asked Roy. But he got no answer. + +Tom went back along the rail till he came to a point twelve or fifteen +feet in the other direction from the group of footprints, and here he +made another careful scrutiny of both rails. The group of footprints was +outside the track and midway between the two points in which he seemed +so much interested. + +"This is the end of _our_ tracking," he said at length. + +"What's the matter?" + +"Come here and I'll show you. See that footprint--it's only half a +one--the front half--see? That's the last one of the lot. That's where +he climbed into the car--see?" + +Roy stood speechless. + +"See? Now come here and I'll show you something. See those little rusty +places on the track? It's fresh rust--see? You can wipe it off with your +finger. There's where the wheels were--see? One, two, three, four--same +on the other side, see? And down there," pointing along the track, "it's +the same way. If it hadn't been raining this week, we'd never known +about a freight car being stalled here, hey? See, those footprints are +just half-way between the rusty spots. There's where the door was. See? +This little front half of a footprint tells the story. He had to climb +to get in--poor kid. He went on a railroad train, after all." + +Roy could say nothing. He could only stare as Tom pointed here and there +and fitted things together like a picture puzzle. The car was gone, but +it had left its marks, just as the boy had. + +"You put it into my head when you mentioned the train," said Tom. + +"Oh, sure; _I_ put it into your head," said Roy, in disgust. "_I'm_ a +wonderful scout--_I_ ought to have a tin medal! It was you brought me +that letter back. It was Pee-wee got the bird down and won a boat for +us--and I've turned him out of it," he added, bitterly. + +"No, you----" + +"Yes, I have. And it was _you_ that tracked him, and it was _you_ +spelled this out and it's _you_--it's just like _you_, too--to turn +around and say I put it into your head. The only thing _I've_ done in +this whole blooming business is try to insult Mary Temple--only--only +you wouldn't let me get away with it," he stammered. + +"Roy," interrupted Tom, "listen--just a minute." He had never seen Roy +like this before. + +"Come on," said Roy, sharply. "You've done all _you_ could. Come on +back!" + +Tom was not much at talking, but seeing his friend in this state seemed +to give him words and he spoke earnestly and with a depth of feeling. + +"It's always _you_," said Roy. "It's----" + +"Roy," said Tom, "don't--wait a minute--_please_. When we got back to +the boat I said we'd have to find him--don't go on like that, +Roy--please! I thought I could find him. But you see I can't--_I_ can't +find him." + +"You can make these tracks talk to you. I'm a----" + +"No, you're not; listen, _please_. I said--you remember how I said I +wanted to be alone with you--you remember? Well, now we are alone, and +it's going to be you to do it, Roy; it's going to be _you_ to bring +Pee-wee back. Just the same as you made me a scout a year ago, you +remember? You're the only one can do it, Roy," he put his hand on Roy's +shoulder, "and I'll--I'll help you. And it'll seem like old times--sort +of--Roy. But you're the one to do it. You haven't forgotten about the +searchlight, have you, Roy? You remember how you told me about the +scout's arm having a long reach? You remember, Roy? Come on, hurry up!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE LONG ARM OF THE SCOUT + + +As Tom spoke, there came rushing into Roy's memory as vivid as the +searchlight's shaft, a certain dark night a year before when Tom Slade, +hoodlum, had stood by his side and with eyes of wonder watched him flash +a message from Blakeley's Hill to the city below to undo a piece of +vicious mischief of which Tom had been guilty. He had turned the heavens +into an open book for Westy Martin, miles away, to read what he should +do. + +A thrill of new hope seized Roy. + +"So you see it _will_ be you, Roy." + +"It has to be you to remind me of it." + +"Shut up!" said Tom. + +They ran for the boat at top speed, for, as they both realized, it was +largely a fight against time. + +"That train was dragging along pretty slow when it passed _us_," said +Tom. + +"Sure, 'bout a million cars," Roy panted. "There's an up-grade, too, I +think, between here and Poughkeepsie. Be half an hour, anyway, before +they make it. You're a wonder. We'll kid the life out of Pee-wee for +riding on a train after all. 'Spose he did it on purpose or got locked +in?" + +"Locked in, I guess," said Tom. "Let's try scout pace, I'm getting +winded." + +The searchlight which had been an important adjunct of the old _Nymph_ +had not been used on the _Good Turn_, for the reason that the boys had +not run her at night. It was an acetylene light of splendid power and +many a little craft Harry Stanton had picked up with it in his nocturnal +cruising. Pee-wee had polished its reflector one day to pass the time, +but with the exception of that attention it had lain in one of the +lockers. + +Reaching the boat they pulled the light out, connected it up, and found +to their delight that it was in good working order. + +"My idea," said Roy, now all excitement, "is to flash it from that hill, +then from the middle of the river. Of course, it's a good deal a +question of luck, but it seems as if _somebody_ ought to catch it, in +all these places along the river. Be great if we could find him +to-night, hey?" + +"They'd just have to hold him till we could get there in the boat--they +couldn't get him back here." + +"No sooner said than stung," said Roy; "hurry up, bring that can, and +some matches and--yes, you might as well bring the Manual anyway, +thought I know that code backwards." + +"You're right you do," said Tom. + +He was glad to see Roy himself again and taking the lead, as usual. + +"If there was only one of these telegraph operators--guys, as I used to +call them--star-gazing, we'd pass the word to him, all right." + +"A word to the guys, hey? Come on, hustle!" + +A strenuous climb brought them to the brow of a hill from which the +lights of several villages, and the more numerous lights of Poughkeepsie +could be seen. + +"Now, Tomasso, see-a if you know-a de lesson--queeck! Connect that up +and--look out you don't step on the tube! I wish we had a pedestal or +something. When you're roaming, you have to do as the Romans do, hey? +Open your Manual to page 232. No!" he said hurriedly looking over Tom's +shoulder. "_Care of the fingernails!_ That's _259_ you've got. What do +you think we're going to do, start a manicure parlor? _There_ you +are--now keep the place to make assurance doubly sure. Here goes! Hello, +folks!" he called, as he swung the long shaft fan-wise across the +heavens. "Now, three dots for S?" + +"Right," said Tom. + +Roy sent three short flashes into the night, then paused and sent a +longer flash of about three seconds. Another pause, then three of the +longer flashes, then a short one, two long ones and a short one. + +"S-T-O-P--stop," he said. + +"Right-o," concurred Tom. + +"Now F--two shorts, a long and a short--is it?" + +"You know blamed well it is," said Tom. + +Thus the message was sent. + +_"Stop freight going north; boy locked in car. Hold. Friends coming up +river in boat flying yellow flag."_ + +They had on board a large yellow flag with TEMPLE CAMP on it, and Roy +thought of this as being the best means of identifying the boat for +anyone who might be watching for it along the shore. + +Three times they flashed the message, then hurried back to the boat and +chugged out, anchoring in midstream. The course of the river is as +straight as an arrow here. The lights in the small towns of Milton and +Camelot were visible on either side; tiny lights flickered along the +railroads that skirted either shore, and beyond in the distance twinkled +the lights on the great bridge at Poughkeepsie. + +"We're right in the steamer's path here," said Tom; "let's hurry." + +Roy played the shaft for a minute to attract attention, then threw his +message again and again into the skies. The long, bright, silent column +seemed to fill the whole heaven as it pierced the darkness in short and +long flashes. The chugging of the _Good Turn's_ engine was emphasized by +the solemn stillness as they ran in toward shore, and the splash of +their dropping anchor awakened a faint echo from the neighboring +mountains. + +"Well, that's all we can do till morning," said Roy. "What do you say to +some eats?" + +"Gee, it's big and wild and lonely, isn't it?" said Tom. + +They had never thought of the Hudson in this way before. + +After breakfast in the morning they started upstream, their big yellow +camp flag flying and keeping as near the shore as possible so as to be +within hail. Now that the black background of the night had passed and +the broad daylight was all about them, their hope had begun to wane. The +spell seemed broken; the cheerful reality of the morning sunlight upon +the water and the hills seemed to dissipate their confidence in that +long shaft, and they saw the whole experience of the night as a sort of +fantastic dream. + +But Pee-wee was gone; there was no dream about that, and the boat did +not seem like the same place without him. + +The first place they passed was Stoneco, but there was no sign of life +near the shore, and the _Good Turn_ chugged by unheeded. They ran across +to Milton where a couple of men lolled on a wharf and a few people were +waiting at the little station. They could not get in very close to the +shore on account of the flats, but Roy, making a megaphone of an old +newspaper, asked if a flash message had been received there. After much +shouting back and forth, he learned that the searchlight had been seen +but had been thought to be from one of the night boats plying up and +down the river. It had evidently meant nothing to the speaker or to +anyone else there. Roy asked if they would please ask the telegraph +operator if he had seen it. + +"He'd understand it all right," he said, a bit disheartened. But the +answer came back that the operator had not seen it. + +At Poughkeepsie they made a landing at the wharf. Here expressmen were +moving trunks about, a few stragglers waiting for some boat peered +through the gates like prisoners; there was a general air of bustle and +a "city" atmosphere about the place. A few people gathered about, +looking at the _Good Turn_ and watching the boys as they made their way +up the wharf. + +"Boy Scouts," they heard someone say. + +There was the usual good-natured curiosity which follows scouts when +they are away from home and which they have come to regard as a matter +of course, but the big yellow flag seemed to carry no particular meaning +to anyone here. + +They walked up to the station where they asked the operator if he had +seen the searchlight message or heard anything about it, but he had not. +They inquired who was the night watchman on the wharf, hunted him out, +and asked him. He had seen the light and wondered what and where it was. +That was all. + +"Foiled again!" said Roy. + +They made inquiries of almost everyone they saw, going into a nearby +hotel and several of the stores. They inquired at the fire house, where +they thought men would have been up at night who might be expected to +know the Morse code, but the spokesman there shook his head. + +"A fellow who was with us got locked in a freight car," Roy explained, +"and we signaled to people up this way to stop the train." + +The man smiled; apparently he did not take Roy's explanation very +seriously. "Now if you could only get that convict that escaped down +yonder----" + +"We have no interest in him," said Roy, shortly. + +He and Tom had both counted on Poughkeepsie with its police force and +fire department and general wide-awakeness, and they went back to the +_Good Turn_ pretty well discouraged, particularly as the good people of +whom they had inquired had treated them with an air of kindly +indulgence, smiling at their story, saying that the scouts were a +wide-awake lot, and so forth; interested, but good-naturedly skeptical. +One had said, "Are you making believe to telegraph that way? Well, it's +good fun, anyway." Another asked if they had been reading dime novels. +The patronizing tone had rather nettled the boys. + +"I'd like to have told that fellow that if we _had_ been reading dime +novels, we wouldn't have had time to learn the Morse code," said Roy. + +_"The Motor Boat Heroes_!" mocked Tom. + +"Yes, volume three thousand, and they haven't learned how to run a gas +engine yet! Get out your magnifying glass, Tom; what's that, a village, +up there?" + +"A house." + +"Some house, too," said Roy, looking at the diminutive structure near +the shore. "Put your hand down the chimney and open the front door, +hey?" + +But as they ran in nearer the shore other houses showed themselves +around the edge of the hill and here, too, was a little wharf with +several people upon it and near it, on the shore, a surging crowd on the +edge of which stood several wagons. + +"Guess they must be having a mass meeting about putting a new spring on +the post-office door," said Roy. "Somebody ought to lay a paperweight on +that village a windy day like this. It might blow away. Close your +throttle a little, Tom and put your timer back; we'll run in and see +what's up." + +"You don't suppose all that fuss can have anything to do with Pee-wee, +do you?" Tom asked. + +"No, it looks more as if a German submarine had landed there. There +wouldn't be so much of a rumpus if they'd got the kid." + +But in another moment Roy's skeptical mood had changed as he saw a tall, +slender fellow in brown standing at the end of the wharf with arms +outspread. + +"What's he doing--posing for the movies?" + +"He's semaphoring," Tom answered. + +"I'll be jiggered if he isn't!" said Roy, all interest at once. +"C--O--M--E---- I--(he makes his I too much like his C)--N. _What do you +know about that!_ Come in!" + +The stranger held what seemed to be a large white placard in either hand +in place of a flag and his motions were not as clear-cut as they should +have been, but to Roy, with whom, as he had often said, the semaphore +code was like "pumpkin pie," the message was plain. + +As they ran alongside the wharf the khaki-clad signaler greeted them +with the scout salute. + +"Pretty brisk out on the water this morning?" he said. "We got your +message--we were out canoeing last night; you use the International +code, don't you?" + +"Have you got him?" Roy asked anxiously. + +"Oh, yes, he's here; pulled in somewhere around midnight, I guess. He +stayed all night with one of our troop; he's up there now getting his +breakfast. Great kid, isn't he?" he laughed. "He was telling us about +rice cakes. We're kind of out of date up here, you know. I was a little +balled up on your spacing," he added as they went up the wharf. "I +haven't got the International down very good. Yes, we were drifting +around, a couple of us, telling Ford jokes, when you sprung it on us." + +"Have you got the signaling badge?" said Roy. + +"Oh, yes, I managed to pull that; I'm out for the star now." + +"You'll get it," said Tom. + +"Is the kid all right?" Roy asked. + +"Oh, sure; but he had some pretty rough handling, I guess. It was quite +a little movie show when we dragged the other one out. Lucky the station +agent and the constable were there. He's up there now waiting for the +men from Ossining." + +Through the surging crowd Tom and Roy could see, sitting on a bench at +the station, a man in convict garb, with his hands manacled together and +a guard on either side of him. In the broad light of day he was a +desperate-looking creature, as he sat with his ugly head hanging low, +apparently oblivious to all about him. + +"I don't understand," said Roy. + +"Didn't you know about him?" + +"Not a thing--except we did know someone got away from Sing Sing the +other night--but we never thought----" + +"Didn't you know he was in the same car? That's why the little fellow +couldn't get away. He'd have come back to you, sure." + +Roy doubted it, but he said nothing and presently the mystery was +cleared up by the arrival on the scene of Pee-wee himself, accompanied +by several scouts. They were laughing merrily and seemed greatly elated +that the boat had come; but Pee-wee was rather embarrassed and held back +until Roy dragged him forward. + +"Kiddo," said he, looking straight into the boy's face, "the _Good Turn_ +couldn't have lived another day without you. So you did hit the railroad +after all, didn't you? Gee, it's good to see you; you've caused us more +worry----" he put his arm over Pee-wee's shoulder and turned away with +him, and the others, being good scouts, had sense enough not to follow. + +"Pee-wee," said Roy, "don't try to tell me--that can wait. Listen, +kiddo. We're in the same boat, you and I. We each wrote a letter that we +shouldn't have written, but yours was received and mine wasn't--thanks +to Tom. We've got to forget about both those letters, Pee-wee. I was +ashamed of mine before I'd finished writing it. There's no good talking +about it now. You're with us because we want you with us, not because +Mary Temple wanted it, but because _I_ want you and Tom wants you; do +you hear? You know who it is that's always doing something for someone +and never getting any credit for it, don't you? It's Tom Slade. He saved +me from being a crazy fool--from sending that letter to Mary. And I came +to my senses the next day. He tracked you to that car, only it always +seems to work around so that someone else gets all the glory. It makes +me feel like a---- Listen to them over there now, talking about +_signaling_. Pee-wee, you gave us an awful scare. It didn't seem natural +on top of the cabin last night without you--you little mascot! We're not +going to have another word to say about this, kid--I'm your patrol +leader, remember. We're going to hit it straight for camp now--the three +of us--the Big Three--and you're with us because we can't do without +you. Do you get that?" + +"Roy," said Pee-wee, speaking with difficulty. "I--I had an--adventure." + +"Well, I should think you did." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +TEMPLE CAMP + + +The scouts of the village stood upon the wharf and waved a last good-bye +to the three as the _Good Turn_ chugged merrily away. + +"I'm going to give that fellow the full salute," said Tom, raising his +hand to his forehead. "He's a wonder." + +The scouts on shore received this tribute to their comrade with shouts, +throwing their hats in the air and giving three lusty cheers for the +"Silver Foxes and the Elks" as the launch, swerving out into midstream, +bent her course for Catskill Landing. + +"He sure is a wonder," said Roy. + +"I told him all about you," chimed in Pee-wee, "and all the stunts you +can do." + +"He seems to be prouder of his Ford jokes than of his signal work," +laughed Roy. "He----" + +"Oh, crinkums, he knows some dandy Ford jokes, and his wrist is so +strong from paddling that he can stick a shovel in the ground and turn +it around with one hand; oh, he's got that paddle twist down fine, Roy; +but, gee, he says you're all right; even before you came he said that; +as soon as I told him who it was that signaled----" + +"Do you think they'll come up?" Roy interrupted. + +"Sure they will; I told them all about the camp and how they could have +a cabin to themselves--they're only a small troop, one patrol, and he +wants to know you better; gee, I told him all about you and how you +could----" + +"All right, kiddo," laughed Roy. + +"They're coming up in August. Say, that fellow's got eleven merit +badges, but the one thing he's crazy to get is the gold cross." + +"He'll get it," said Tom, who had been wiping the engine. + +"He says the trouble is," added Pee-wee, "that he can't save anybody's +life with great danger to his own--that's what it says in the Manual, +isn't it?" + +"Yes," said Tom, quietly. + +"He says the trouble is nobody ever gets in danger. The trouble with his +troop is they all know how to swim and they're so blamed clever that he +never has a chance to rescue one of them. He said he tipped the canoe +over with one fellow and the fellow just wouldn't be saved; he swam +around and dived and wouldn't let Garry imperil his life--and that's the +only way you can do it, Roy. You've got to imperil your own life, and he +says he never gets a chance to imperil his life." + +"Must be discouraging," said Roy. + +"Oh, jiminys, you'd laugh to hear him talk; he's got that quiet way +about him, Roy--sober like. I told him there's lots of different ways a +feller can imperil his life." + +"Sure, fifty-seven varieties," said Roy. "Well, I'm glad they treated +you so well, kid, and I hope we'll have a chance to pay them back. What +do you say we tie up in Kingston and have a soda?" + +Early the next day they came in sight of Catskill Landing. Roy stood on +top of the cabin like Columbus, his rapt gaze fixed upon the dock. + +"We have arrove," said he. "Gee, I'm sorry it's over." + +[Illustration] + +The trip _had_ been enjoyable, but now their every thought was centered +upon Temple Camp to which they were so near and they were filled with +delightful anticipations as they made ready for the hike which still lay +before them. The boating club, with the hospitality which a love of the +water seems always to inspire in its devotees, gave them a mooring buoy +and from this, having made their boat fast, they rowed ashore and set +out with staves and duffel bags for the quaint little village of Leeds. + +The distance to Leeds depends upon who is making the journey, or from +whom you get your information. The farmers will tell you it is five +miles. The summer boarders are likely to tell you that it is ten. To be +exact, it is somewhere between two miles and twenty miles, and you can't +get back to Catskill Landing for dinner. + +"I think it's ten miles there and twenty miles back," said Roy; "_we_ +should worry! When we get to Leeds we make our grand dash for the lake." + +"Like Peary," said Pee-wee, already bubbling over with excitement. + +"Something like him, yes." + +Their way took them through a beautiful hilly country and for a while +they had glimpses of the river, which brought them pleasant +reminiscences of their rambling, happy-go-lucky voyage. + +"Who does the _Good Turn_ belong to?" Tom asked. + +"I think it belongs to Honorable Pee-wee Harris," said Roy. "He did the +trick that won it." + +"I'll tell you who she belongs to," said Pee-wee. "She belongs to the +First Bridgeboro Troop, Boy Scouts of America." + +"Raven, Fox and Elk!" said Roy. "Right you are, Pee-wee. United we +stand, divided we squall." + +A tramp of a couple of hours over country roads brought them to Leeds, +and they hiked along its main street contributing not a little to its +picturesqueness with their alert, jaunty air, their brown complexions +which matched so well with the scout attire, their duffel bags and their +long staves. More than one farmer and many an early summer boarder +stared at them and hailed them pleasantly as they passed along. + +"I like this village," said Pee-wee. + +"I'll have it wrapped up for you," said Roy; "Take it, or have it sent?" + +"How do we get to Black Lake?" Tom asked of a man who was lounging +outside one of the shops. + +"Ye ain't goin' to walk it, be ye?" he answered, scrutinizing them +curiously. + +"Right you are," said Roy. "How did you guess?" + +"Ye got a pooty smart walk afore ye," the man said, dubiously. + +"Well, we're pretty smart boys," said Roy. "Break it to us gently, and +let us hear the worst." + +"Baout five mile 'f ye take th' hill rud." + +"Gracious, goodness me!" said Roy, "are they all the same length?" + +"Haouw?" + +"The miles; lads, I'm just reckless enough to do it." + +"Wall," drawled their informant, "Ye go 'long this rud t'l ye come t' a +field whar thar's a red caouw, then ye cut right through th' middle uv +it 'n' go on over a stun wall 'n' ye'll come to a woods rud. Ye foller +that t'l ye come to a side path on the left on it that goes up hill. +Black Lake's t'other side that hill. Ye got to pick yer way up through +the woods 'long that path if ye kin foller it, 'n' when ye git t' the +top ye kin look daown 'n' see th' lake, but ye'll have a smart climb +gettin' daown th' hill." + +"That's us," said Roy. "Thanks--thanks very much." + +When they had gone a little way he halted Tom and Pee-wee with a +dramatic air. + +"Lads," said he, "we've got the _Motor Boat Heroes_ and the _Dauntless +Chums_ and _Submarine Sam_ beaten to a frazzle! We're the _Terrible Trio +Series_, volume two million. Lads, get out your dirks and keep up stout +hearts. We have to cut through the middle of a red cow! That man said +so!" + +Three-quarters of an hour more along an apparently disused road and they +came upon a trail which was barely discernible, leading up a steep and +densely wooded hill. In places they had to climb over rugged terraces, +extricating themselves from such mazes of tangled underbrush as they had +never before seen. Now and then the path seemed to peter out and they +found it again with difficulty and only by the skilful use of scout +tracking lore. The long, steep climb was filled with difficulties, but +they pressed on amazed at the wildness all about them. + +At last, by dint of much hard effort and after many wasted steps through +loss of the trail, they came out upon the summit, and looked down upon +a sight which sent a thrill to all three. The other side of the hill +was, perhaps, not as steep as the side which they had mounted, but it +was thickly wooded and at its base was a sheet of water surrounded by +lofty hills, all covered with dense forest, which extended right down to +the water's edge. The lake was perhaps a mile long, and lay like a dark +jewel amid the frowning heights which closed it in. The trees along +shore were dimly reflected in the still, black water. The quiet of the +spot was intense. It was relieved by no sign of habitation, save a +little thin, uncertain column of smoke which rose from among the trees +on the farther shore. + +The solemnity of the scene, the blackness and isolation of that sheet of +water, the dense woods, rising all around it and shutting out the world, +was quite enough to cast a spell on anyone, and the three boys looked +about them awestruck and for a moment speechless. + +"Jiminy crinkums!" said Pee-wee, at length. + +Tom only shook his head. + +"Reminds you of Broadway and Forty-second Street," said Roy. + +They started down the hill and found that their descent was quite as +difficult as the ascent had been, but at last they reached the foot and +now, from this lower viewpoint they could catch a glimpse of the wood +interior on the opposite shore. There were several log cabins +harmonizing in color with the surrounding forest and, therefore, +inconspicuous. Farther from the shore the boys glimpsed another and +larger structure and at the water's edge they now saw a boat drawn up. + +It was evident that the way they had come was not the usual way to reach +the camp, for there was no sign of trail along the shore, and to pick +their way around, with the innumerable obstacles which beset the way, +would have taken several hours. + +"It must be lively around here on Saturday nights with the crowd out +doing their marketing, and the movie shows----" began Roy. + +"Aw, shut up!" said Pee-wee. + +They raised their voices in unison and shouted, and the echo resounded +from the hills across the water, almost as loud and distinguishable as +their own call. Roy yelled long and loud, slapping his open lips with +the palm of his hand, and a pandemonium of similar sounds came back as +if from a multitude of voices. + +"I tell you, when John Temple does a thing he does it right!" said +Pee-wee. "Gee, you can't deny that!" + +In a few moments a man approached on the opposite shore and leisurely +got into the boat. As he rowed across, he looked around once in a while, +and as the boat drew near the boys saw that its occupant had iron gray +hair, a long drooping moustache, and a face deeply wrinkled and browned +almost to a mulatto hue. + +"Hello," called Roy. "Is that Temple Camp over there? I guess we came in +the back way." + +"Thet's it," said the man. "You some o' the Bridgeboro boys?" + +His voice was low and soft, as of one who has lived long in the woods by +himself. There was a humorous twinkle in his eye which the boys liked. +He was long and lanky and wore khaki trousers and a coarse gray flannel +shirt. His arms, which were bare, were very sinewy. Altogether, the +impression which he made on the boys was that he was perfectly +self-possessed and at ease, so absolutely sure of himself that nothing +in all the wide world could frighten him or disconcert him. The +President of the United States, kings, emperors, millionaires--including +John Temple--might want to be rowed across and this man would come +leisurely over and get them, but he would not hurry and he would be no +more embarrassed or flustered at meeting them than a tree would be. +Nature, the woods and mountains and prairies, had put their stamp upon +him, had whispered their secrets to him, and civilization could not +phase him. That was the way he struck the boys, who from being scouts +had learned to be observant and discerning. + +"Are you Mr. Rushmore?" Tom asked, and as the man nodded assent he +continued, "My name is Tom Slade; we're members of the Bridgeboro Troop +and I'm the one selected to help you. I don't know if you expected me +yet, but my scoutmaster and Mr. Temple thought I better come ahead of +the other fellows so's to help you and get acquainted--like. These +fellows came with me just for fun, but, of course, they want to help get +things ready. The rest are coming up in July." + +This was a good deal for Tom to say at a stretch, and it fell to the +voluble Pee-wee later to edify Mr. Rushmore with all the details of +their trip, winding up with a glowing peroration on Roy's greatness. + +"Waal, I reck'n I'm glad ye've come--the hull three on ye," Jeb Rushmore +drawled. + +"That's some trail over that hill," said Roy, as they rowed across. "We +lost it about a dozen times." + +"Thet? Thet ain't no trail," said Jeb. "Thet's a street--a thurafare. +I'm a-goin' t' test you youngsters out follerin' thet on a dark night." + +"Have a heart!" said Roy. "I could never pick that out with a +flashlight." + +"A what? Ye won't hev no light o' no sort, not ef _I_ know it." + +The boys laughed. "Well, I see we're up against the real thing," said +Roy, "but if that's a thoroughfare, I'd like to see a trail--that's +all." + +"Ye don' need ter see it," drawled Jeb. "Ye jest _feel_ it." + +"You must have a pretty good sense of touch," said Roy. + +"Ye don' feel it with your hands, youngster, ye jest _sense_ it." + +"_Good night!_" said Roy. + +Tom said nothing. He had been watching Mr. Rushmore and hanging with +rapt attention on his every word. + +They found the hill on the opposite shore not as steep as it had looked +from across the water, and here at its base, in the dim solitude by the +shore, was Temple Camp. There was a large open pavilion built of +untrimmed wood, which would accommodate eight or ten troops, allowing to +each some measure of privacy and there were as many as a dozen log +cabins, some large enough for two or three patrols, others intended +evidently to accommodate but one. There was a shack for the storage of +provisions and equipment, in which the boys saw among other things piles +upon piles of wooden platters. + +"Not much dishwashing here," said Pee-wee, joyfully. + +Here, also, were half a dozen tents and every imaginable article +necessary to camp life. Close by was a cooking shack and outside this +several long mess boards with rough seats; and just beyond was a spring +of clear water. + +Jeb Rushmore had a cabin to himself upon the outside of which sprawled +the skins of as many as a dozen different sorts of animals--the trophies +of his life in the West. + +John Temple had certainly done the thing right; there was no doubt of +that. He had been a long time falling, but when he fell he fell hard. +Temple Camp comprised one hundred acres of woodland--"plenty of room to +grow in," as Jeb said. It was more than a camp; it was really a +community, and had somewhat the appearance of a frontier trading post. +In its construction very little bark had been taken from the wood; the +whole collection of buildings fitted well in their wild surroundings; +there wasn't a jarring note. + +But Temple Camp was unique not only in its extent, its rustic character +and its magnificent situation; it was the fulfilment of a grand dream +which John Temple had dreamed. Any troop of scouts could, by making +timely application to the trustees, go to Temple Camp and remain three +weeks without so much as a cent of cost. There was to be absolutely no +favoritism of any kind (and Jeb Rushmore was the man to see to that), +not even in the case of the Bridgeboro Troop; except that troops from +cities were to be given preference over troops from country districts. +Jeb Rushmore was to be the camp manager, working with the trustees and +the visiting scoutmasters; but as it turned out he became a character in +this scout village, and if he fell short in executive capacity he more +than made up for it in other ways. Before the first season was over +people came miles to see him. There were also a doctor and a cook, +though a troop occupying a cabin could do its own cooking and mess by +itself if it chose. + +There were some rather interesting rules and regulations. If a scout won +a merit badge while at camp this entitled his whole troop to lengthen +its stay by two days, if it so elected. If he won the life scout badge, +four extra days was the reward of his whole troop. The star badge meant +an extra week, the eagle badge ten extra days. A scout winning the +bronze cross was entitled with his troop to occupy "Hero Cabin" and to +remain two extra weeks at camp. The silver cross meant three extra +weeks; the gold cross four extra weeks. If a troop could not +conveniently avail itself of this extra time privilege in the current +season it could be credited with the time and use it, whole or +piecemeal, in subsequent seasons. + +On the lake there were to be several boats which were not yet ready, and +every scout winning a life saving medal was to have a boat named for +him. At the time the boys arrived there was only one boat and that was +named _Mary Temple_. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HERO CABIN + + +The history of Temple Camp during that gala season of its opening would +fill a book; but this is not a history of Temple Camp, and we must pass +at once to those extraordinary happenings which shook the little scout +community to its very center and cast a shadow over the otherwise +pleasant and fraternal life there. + +By the middle of July every inch of space in the pavilion was occupied, +and among the other troops which lodged there was the little troop from +down the Hudson, of which Garry Everson was the leader. Tom had tried to +procure cabin accommodations for these good friends, but the cabins had +all been spoken for before their application came and they had to be +content with the less desirable quarters. During the early days of their +stay the Bridgeboro Troop arrived in a blaze of glory; the Ravens, with +their pride and delight, Doc Carson, first aid boy; the rest of the +Silver Foxes with Westy Martin, Dorry Benton and others; and Tom's own +patrol, the Elks, with Connie Bennett, the Bronson boys, the famous +O'Connor twins, all with brand new outfits, for this was a new patrol. +Three small cabins had been reserved for them and in these they settled +down, each patrol by itself and flying its own flag. Tom, by reason of +his duties, which identified him with the camp as a whole rather than +with any troop or patrol, occupied the cabin with Jeb Rushmore, and +though he was much with the Elks, he had delegated Connie Bennett to +substitute as patrol leader for the time being. + +Garry Everson was a general favorite. Not only had his stunt of +receiving the signal message and restoring the fugitive Pee-wee won him +high regard with the Bridgeboro boys, but his quiet manner and whimsical +humor had made him many friends throughout the camp. He was tall and +slim, but muscular; the water seemed to be his specialty; he was an +expert at rowing and paddling, he could dive in a dozen different ways +and as for swimming, no one at Temple Camp could begin to compete with +him. + +Tom's friendship with Garry Everson had grown quite intimate. They were +both interested in tracking and made many little trips together, for +Tom had much time to himself. + +One morning, as Tom, according to rule, was making his regular +inspection of the pavilion, he lingered for a few minutes in Garry's +corner to chat with him. + +"You're not getting ready to go?" he asked in surprise, noticing that +some of the troop's paraphernalia had been packed. + +"Beginning to get ready," said Garry. "Sit down. Why didn't you bring +your knitting?" + +"I can't stay long," said Tom. "I've got to inspect the cabins yet, and +then I've got to make up the program for campfire yarns to-night. By +the way, couldn't _you_ give us a spiel?" + +"Oh, sure," said Garry. "_The Quest of the Honor Medal_. I'll tell how +nobody ever gets into danger here--or imperils his life, as Pee-wee +would say. I'm going to put a notice up on one of the trees and get you +to read another at mess with the regular announcements: Wanted; by scout +seeking honor medal; someone willing to imperil his life. Suitable +reward. Apply Temple Camp pavilion. Signed, Would-be Hero." + +Tom laughed. + +"I'm like old What's-his-name, Cæsar. Ready to do the conquest act, but +nothing more to conquer. Believe me, it's no cinch being a would-be +hero. Couldn't you get bitten by a rattlesnake on one of your tracking +stunts? Get your foot on him, you know, and he'll be wriggling and +squirming to get his head free, and his cruel fangs will be within an +inch of your ankle and you'll just begin to feel them against your +stocking----" + +"Don't," laughed Tom. + +"When all of a sudden I'll come bounding out of the thicket, and I'll +grab him by the head and force his cruel jaws shut and slip an elastic +band around his mug. That ought to pull the silver cross, hey? And I and +my faithful followers would get three extra weeks in camp." + +"Would you like to stay longer?" Tom asked. + +"Foolish question, number three million. Haven't we had the time of our +young lives? I never knew two weeks to go so fast. Never mind, we've got +two days more--and two days _only_ unless I get some answers to my +'ad.'" + +"Where's your patrol this morning?" + +"Stalking; they've a date with a robin. I would have gone along except I +didn't see much chance of any of them imperilling their lives taking +snapshots of robins. So I stayed home to do a little packing--things we +won't need again. But no use thinking about that, I suppose; that's what +I tell them. We've had some good times, all right. Seems a pity we have +to go just when Mr. Temple and his daughter have come. You're a lucky +kid; you stay till the last gun is fired, don't you?" + +"Yes, I'm going to stay till we close up. Come on, stroll up the hill +with me. I've got to raise the colors. If you've only two days more +there's no use moping around in here." + +"All right, wait a minute and I'll be with you--dry the pensive tear, as +your friend Roy would say. He's an all-around scout, isn't he?" + +"Yes, he came right off the cover of the Manual, Mr. Ellsworth says." + +"You're a bully troop, you fellows. Gee, I envy you. Trouble with us," +he continued, as they walked up the hill together, "is we haven't any +scoutmaster. I'm scoutmaster and patrol leader rolled into one. We're +going to get better organized this winter. There's only just the seven +of us, you know, and we haven't got any money. You might think that +because we live in a country village on the Hudson everything's fine and +dandy. But there's blamed little money in our burg. Four of our troop +have to work after school. One works all day and goes to night school +down to Poughkeepsie. I saved up two years to buy that canoe I was in +when I caught your message." + +"Well, you caught it all right," said Tom, with a note of pride in his +usually expressionless voice. + +"We'll come out all right, though," said Garry, cheerily. "That's what +I'm always telling them; only we're so gol-blamed poor." + +"I know what it is," said Tom, after a pause. "Maybe that's what makes +us such good friends, sort of. I lived in a tenement down in Bridgeboro. +I've got to thank Roy for everything--Roy and Mr. Ellsworth. They all +treat me fine and you'd never know most of them are rich fellows; but +somehow--I don't just know how to tell you---- but you know how a scout +is supposed to be a brother to every other scout. Well, it seems to me, +kind of, as if a poor fellow is a brother to every other poor +fellow--and--and--I understand." + +"It's easy to see they all think a lot of you," said Garry. "Well, we've +had a rattling good time up here and I don't suppose we'll feel any +worse about going away than lots of others will. If you miss one thing +you usually have another to make up. We're all good friends in our +little troop--we have more fun than you could shake a stick at, joshing +each other about different kinds of heroic stunts, to win an honor +medal, and some of them have thought up the craziest things----" + +"I wish you could stay," said Tom. + +"Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, as some old duffer +said." + +The wooded hill sloped upward behind the camp for a distance of some +hundred yards, where it was broken by a sheer precipice forming one side +of a deep gully. This was the work of man, having once been a railroad +cut, but it had been in disuse for many years and was now covered with +vegetation. You could walk up the hill till you came to the brink of +this almost vertical chasm, but you could no more scramble down it than +you could scramble down a well. On the opposite side of the cut the hill +continued upward and the bridging of the chasm by the scouts themselves +had been a subject of much discussion; but up to the present time +nothing had been done and there was no way to continue one's ascent of +the hill except to follow along the edge of the cut to a point where the +precipice was low enough to allow one to scramble down--a walk of +several miles. + +Right on the brink of this old overgrown cut was a shack which had +probably once been used by the workmen. Although on the Camp property it +was rather too far removed from the other buildings to be altogether +convenient as a living place, but its isolated situation had attracted +the boys, and the idea of calling it Hero Cabin was an inspiration of +Roy's. Mr. Keller, one of the trustees, had fallen in with the notion +and while deprecating the use of this remote shack for regular living +quarters, had good-naturedly given his consent that it be used as the +honored domicile of any troop a member of which had won an honor medal. +Perhaps he thought that, honor medals being not so easily won, it would +be quite safe to make this concession. + +In any event, it was quite enough for the boys. A committee was formed +with a member from each troop to make the shack a suitable abode for a +hero and his court. Impulsive Roy was the moving spirit of the plan; +Pee-wee was its megaphone, and in the early days of the Bridgeboro +troop's stay a dozen or more scouts had worked like beavers making a +path up through the woods, covering the shack with bark, and raising a +flagpole near it. They had hiked into Leeds and bought material for a +flag to fly above the shack showing the name, HERO CABIN, and they had +fitted it with rustic bunks inside. + +The idea was a good one, the boys had taken a great deal of pride and +pleasure in the work of preparation, the whole thing had given rise to +much friendly jealousy as to what troop should be honored by residence +here and what fortunate scout should be escorted to this new abode amid +acclamations. Probably every troop in camp had dreams of occupying it (I +am sure that Pee-wee had), and of spending its "honor time" here. + +But apparently Mr. Keller, who was not much given to dreaming, was right +in his skeptical conjecture for Hero Cabin remained unoccupied, though +Tom made it a point to tramp up and raise and lower the colors there +each day. + +"Some day, maybe next season," said he as they stood on the brink and +gazed across the deep gully, "they'll bring somebody up here riding on +their shoulders. You can't win an honor medal every day in the week. I +think the bronze cross would be enough for _me_--let alone the silver or +the gold one. I'd be satisfied with that, wouldn't you?" + +"Except that the gold cross gives you four extra weeks," said Garry, +"and, of course, the more risk a fellow takes, the greater the honor +is." He picked up a pebble and threw it at a tree across the gully. "I'd +rather have one of those medals," he said, "than anything in the +world--and I want a wireless outfit pretty bad, too. But besides that" +(he kept throwing pebbles across the gully and spoke half absently), +"besides that, it would be fine to have that extra time. Maybe we +couldn't use it _all_ this season, but--look, I can hit that thin tree +every time--but I'm thinking of the little codger mostly; you know the +one I mean--with the light hair?" + +"The little fellow that coughs?" + +"He doesn't cough any more. He did before we came up here. His father +died of consumption. No, he doesn't cough much now--guess it agrees with +him up here. He's---- There, I hit it six times in succession." + +For a few minutes Tom said nothing, but watched as Garry, time after +time, hit the slender tree across the gully. + +"I often dream about having an honor medal, too," he said, after a +while. "We haven't got any in our troop. Roy'll be the one, I guess. I +suppose the gold cross is the highest award they'll ever have, hey?" + +"Guess so." + +"There's nothing better than gold, is there?" + +"It isn't because there's nothing better than gold," said Garry, still +intent upon hitting his mark. "It's because there's nothing better than +heroism--bravery--risking your life." + +"Diamonds--they might have a diamond cross, hey?" + +"What for?" + +"In case they found anything that's better than heroism.[missing: "?] + +"What?" + +"Oh, I don't know. There might be." + +Garry turned and laughingly clapped Tom on the back. "I might push you +over this precipice and then jump down after you, hey?" he laughed. + +"You'd be crushed to death yourself," said Tom. + +"Well, stop talking nonsense or I'll do it. Come on, get your chores +done and we'll go down and have a swim. What'd' you say?" + +He ran his hand through Tom's thick shock of hair and laughed again. +"Come on, forget it," said he. "I've only got two days more here and +I'm not going to miss a morning dip. Come on, I'll show you the double +twist dive." + +He put his arm through Tom's with the contagious gaiety that was his, +and started down the hill with him toward the lake. + +"Come on, wake up, you old grouch," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +COWARD! + + +There were not many boys bathing at the time this thing happened. Roy +and several of the Silver Foxes were at a little distance from the shore +practising archery, and a number of scouts from other troops lolled +about watching them. Three or four boys from a Pennsylvania troop were +having an exciting time with the rowboat, diving from it out in the +middle of the lake. Pee-wee Harris and Dory Bronson, of Tom's patrol, +were taking turns diving from the spring-board. Tom and Garry joined +them and, as usual, whenever Garry was diving, boys sauntered down to +the shore and watched. + +"Here goes the Temple Twist," said he, turning a complete somersault and +then jerking himself sideways so as to strike the water crossways to the +spring-board. + +There was some applause as he came up spluttering. Tom tried it, but +could not get the twist. + +"Try this on your piano," said Garry, diving and striking the water +flat. + +"That's what you call the Bridgeboro Botch," he laughed, as Tom went +sprawling into the water. "Hey, Blakeley," he shouted to Roy, "did you +see the Bridgeboro Botch?" + +"There's no use their trying _your_ tricks," Roy called in genuine +admiration. "I'm coming in in a few minutes, myself." + +But Tom dived very well for all that, and so did Pee-wee, but Dory +Bronson was new at the game. + +The thing which was destined to have such far-reaching consequences +happened suddenly and there was some difference of opinion among the +eye-witnesses as to just how it occurred, but all were agreed as to the +main fact. Dory had just dived, it was Pee-wee's turn next, Tom would +follow, and then Garry, who meanwhile had stepped up to where Roy and +the others were shooting, and was chatting with them. + +They had dived in this order like clockwork for some time, so that when +Dory did not appear on the board the others looked about for him. Just +at that moment a piercing cry arose, and a dozen pairs of eyes were +turned out on the lake where the boy was seen struggling frantically. +It was evident that the boys in the boat were pulling to his assistance, +but they were too far away and meanwhile he floundered and struggled +like a madman, sending up cries that echoed from the hills. How he had +gotten out so far no one knew, unless indeed he had tried to swim to the +boat. + +The sight of a human being struggling frantically in the water and lost +to all sense of reason by panic fright is one to strike terror to a +stout heart. Even the skilful swimmer whose courage is not of the +stoutest may balk at the peril. That seemed to be the feeling which +possessed Tom Slade as he stood upon the end of the spring-board and +instead of diving cast a hurried look to where Garry Everson was talking +with Roy. + +It all happened in a moment, the cries from the lake, Tom's hesitation, +his swift look toward Roy and Garry, and his evident relief as the +latter rushed to the shore and plunged into the water. He stood there on +the end of the high spring-board, conspicuous against the blue sky, with +his eyes fixed upon the swimmer. He saw the struggle in the water, saw +the frantic arms clutch at Garry, watched him as he extricated himself +from that insane grasp, saw him catch the struggling figure with the +"neck grip" as the only means of saving both lives, and watched him as +he swam toward shore with his now almost unconscious burden. What he +thought, how he felt, no human being knew. He stood motionless like a +statue until the growing crowd below him set up a cheer. Then he went +down and stood among them. + +"Didn't you see him drowning there?" a fellow demanded of him. + +"Yes, I did," said Tom. + +The other stared at him for a moment with a peculiar expression, then +swung on his heel and strode away. + +Tom craned his neck to see and spoke to those nearest him, but they only +answered perfunctorily or ignored him altogether. He moved around to +where Roy stood, and Roy, without looking at him, pressed farther into +the crowd. + +"That's he," a boy near him whispered to his neighbor; "stood on the end +of the board, watching. I didn't think we had any cowards here." + +In every face and most of all in the faces of his own troop Tom saw +contempt plainly written. He could not go away from them, for that might +excite fresh comment; so he remained, trying to disregard the +significant glances and swallowing hard to keep down the lump which kept +rising in his throat. + +Soon the doctor came, relieving Doc Carson of the Ravens, and the +half-drowned boy was taken to his cabin. + +"He--he's all right, isn't he?" Tom asked of the doctor. + +"Yes," said the doctor, briefly. "He's one of your own patrol, isn't +he?" + +"Yes--sir." + +The doctor looked at him for a moment and then turned away. + +"Hello, old man," said Garry, as he passed him, hurrying to the +pavilion. "Cold feet, eh? Guess you got a little rattled. Never mind." + +The words stabbed Tom like a knife, but at least they were friendly and +showed that Garry did not entirely condemn him. + +He paused at the Elks cabin, the cabin of his own patrol, where most of +the members of his troop were gathered. One or two made way for him in +the doorway, but did not speak. Roy Blakeley was sitting on the edge of +Dory's couch. + +"Roy," said Tom, still hesitating in the doorway of his own patrol +cabin, "can I speak to you a minute?" + +Roy came out and silently followed Tom to a point out of hearing of the +others. + +"I--I don't care so much what the others think," said Tom. "If they want +to think I'm a coward, all right. But I want to tell _you_ how it was so +_you_ won't think so." + +"Oh, you needn't mind about me," said Roy. + +"You and Garry--I----" + +"I guess _he_ knows what to think, too," said Roy, coldly. "I guess he +has his opinion of the First Bridgeboro Troop's courage." + +"That's why I care most," said Tom, "on account of disgrace for one +being disgrace for all--and honor, too. But there's something----" + +"Well, you should have thought of that," Roy interrupted impetuously, +"when you stood there and let a strange fellow rescue one of your own +patrol. You practically asked him to do it--everybody saw." + +"There's something----" + +"Oh, sure, _there's something_! I suppose you'll be able to dig +something out of the Handbook, defending cowards! You're great on the +Handbook." + +Again that something came up in Tom's throat and the ugly word cut him +so that he could hardly speak. + +"No, there isn't anything in the Manual about it," said he, in his slow +monotone, "because I looked." + +Roy sneered audibly. + +"But I thought there might be another law--a 13th one about----" + +"Oh, you make me sick with your 13th law!" Roy flared up. "Is that what +you were dreaming about when you stood on the end of that board and +beckoned to Garry----" + +"I didn't beckon, I just looked----" + +"Just looked! Well, I don't claim to be up on the law like you, but the +10th law's good enough for me,--'A scout is brave; he has the courage to +face danger in spite of fear.' This fellow will have the bronze cross, +maybe the silver one, for rescuing one of _our_ troop, one of _your own_ +patrol. _You_ know how we made a resolution that the first honor medal +should come to us! And here you stand there watching and let a stranger +walk away with it!" + +"Do you think he'll get it?" Tom asked. + +"Of course, he'll get it." + +Tom smiled slightly. "And _you_ think I'm a coward?" + +"I'm not saying what I think. I never _did_ think so before. I know that +fellow will have the cross and they'll be the honor troop because in +_our_ troop we've got----" + +"Don't say that again, Roy; please don't--I----" + +Roy looked at him for one moment; perhaps in that brief space all the +history of their friendship came rushing back upon him, and he was on +the point of stretching out his hand and letting Tom explain. But the +impulse passed like a sudden storm, and he walked away. + +Tom watched him until he entered the patrol shack, and then went on to +his own cabin. Jeb Rushmore was out with the class in tracking, teaching +them how to _feel_ a trail, and Tom sat down on his own couch, glad to +be alone. He thought of the members of his own troop, in and about his +own patrol cabin, ministering to Dory Bronson. He wondered what they +were saying about him and whether Roy would discuss him with others. He +didn't think Roy would do that. He wondered what Mr. Ellsworth would +think--and Jeb Rushmore. + +He got up and, fumbling in his duffel bag, fished out the thumbed and +dilapidated Handbook, which was his trusty friend and companion. He +opened it at page 64. He knew the place well enough, for he had many +times coveted what was offered there. There, standing at attention and +looking straight at him, was the picture of a scout, very trim and +natty, looking, as he had often thought, exactly like Roy. Beside it was +another picture of a scout tying knots and he recalled how Roy had +taught him the various knots. His eyes scanned the type above till he +found what he sought. + + "The bronze medal is mounted on a red ribbon and is awarded to a + scout who has actually saved life where risk is involved. + + "The silver medal is mounted on a blue ribbon and is awarded to a + scout who saves life with considerable risk to himself. + + "The gold medal is mounted on white ribbon and is the highest + possible award for heroism. It may be granted to a scout who has + gravely endangered his own life in actually saving the life of + another." + +"It'll mean the silver one for him, all right," said Tom to himself, +"and that's three more weeks. I wish it could be the gold one." + +Idly he ran through the pages of the book, pausing here and there. On +page 349 were pictures of scouts rescuing drowning persons. He knew the +methods well and looked at the pictures wistfully. Again at page 278 was +some matter about tracking, with notes in facsimile handwriting. This +put the idea into his mind that he might insert a little handwriting of +his own at a certain place, and he turned to the pages he knew best of +all--33 and 34. He read the whole twelve laws, but none seemed quite to +cover his case. So he wrote in a very cramped hand after Law 12 these +words: + + "13--A scout can make a sacrifice. He can keep from winning a medal + so somebody else can get it. Especially he must do this if it does + the other scout more good. That is better than being a hero." + +He turned to the fly leaf and wrote in sprawling, reckless fashion: "I +am not a coward. I hate cowards." Then he tore the page out and threw it +away. He hardly knew what he was doing. After a few minutes he turned to +page 58, where the picture of the honor medal was. As he sat gazing at +it, loud shouting arose in the distance. Nearer and nearer it came, and +louder it grew, until it swelled into a lusty chorus. Around the corner +of the pavilion they came, two score or more of scouts, yelling and +throwing their hats into the air. Tom looked up and listened. Through +the little window he could glimpse them as they passed, carrying Garry +Everson upon their shoulders, and shrieking themselves hoarse. Pee-wee +was there and Artie Val Arlen, of the Ravens, and the little +sandy-haired fellow with the cough, running to keep up and yelling +proudly for his chief and idol. + +"Hurrah for the silver cross!" they called. + +"Three cheers for the honor scout!" + +"Three cheers and three extra weeks!" + +They paused within a dozen feet of where Tom sat, and pushing, elbowing, +fell into the woods path leading up to Hero Cabin. Tom listened until +their voices, spent by the distance, were scarcely audible. Then he fell +to gazing again at the picture of the medal. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +OSTRACIZED + + +The question was as to the bronze cross or the silver one, and it was +the silver one which came. Roy, who had been the most observant witness, +testified before the Honor Court that the frantic struggling of the +rescued scout must have incurred danger to the rescuer and that only his +dexterity and skill had saved him. + +But after all, who can say how much risk is involved in such an act. It +is only in those deeds of sublime recklessness where one throws his life +into the balance as a tree casts off a dried leaf that the true measure +of peril is known. That is where insanity and heroism seem to join +hands. And hence the glittering cross of the yellow metal lying against +its satin background of spotless white stands alone by itself, apart +from all other awards. + +There was no thought of it here and least of all by Garry himself. When +asked by the court how much he believed he had jeopardized his life, he +said he did not know, and that at the time he had thought only of saving +Dory Bronson. He added that all scouts know the different life-saving +"wrinkles" and that they have to use their judgment. His manner had a +touch of nonchalance, or rather, perhaps of indifference, which struck +one or two of the visiting scoutmasters unfavorably. But Jeb Rushmore, +who was in the room, sitting far back with his lanky arms clasped about +his lanky limbs, and a shrewd look in his eyes, was greatly impressed, +and it was largely because of his voice that the recommendation went to +headquarters for the silver medal. In all of the proceedings the name of +Tom Slade was not once mentioned, though his vantage point on the +spring-board ought to have made his testimony of some value. + +So Garry Everson and his little one-patrol troop took up their abode in +Hero Cabin, and the little sandy-haired fellow with the cough raised and +lowered the colors each day, as Tom had done, and ate more heartily down +at mess, and made birchbark ornaments in the sunshine up at his beloved +retreat, and was very proud of his leader; but he had little use for Tom +Slade, because he believed Tom was a coward. + +In due time the Silver Cross itself came, and scouts who strolled up to +visit the cabin on the precipice noticed that sometimes the little +sandy-haired fellow wore it, so that it came to be rumored about that +Garry Everson cared more about him than he did about the medal. There +were times when Garry took his meals up to him and often he was not at +campfire in the evenings. But the little fellow improved each day and +every one noticed it. + +In time the feeling toward Tom subsided until nothing was left of it +except a kind of passive disregard of him. Organized resentment would +not have been tolerated at Temple Camp and it is a question whether the +scouts themselves would have had anything to do with such a conspiracy. +But the feeling had changed toward him and was especially noticeable in +certain quarters. + +Perhaps if he had lived among his own troop and patrol as one of them +the estrangement would have been entirely forgotten, but he lived a life +apart, seeing them only at intervals, and so the coldness continued. As +the time drew near for the troop to leave, Tom fancied that the feeling +against him was stronger because they were thinking of the extra time +they might have had along with the honor they had lost, but he was +sensitive and possibly imagined that. He sometimes wondered if Roy and +the others were gratified to know that these good friends of their happy +journey to camp could remain longer. But the camp was so large and the +Honor Troop stayed so much by itself that the Bridgeboro boys hardly +realized what it meant to that little patrol up at Hero Cabin. Tom often +thought wistfully of the pleasant cruise up the river and wondered if +Roy and Pee-wee thought of it as they made their plans to go home in the +_Good Turn_. + +Two friends Tom had, at all events, and these were Jeb Rushmore and +Garry Everson. The Honor Troop was composed mostly of small boys and all +except the little boy who was Garry's especial charge were in Tom's +tracking class. He used to put them through the simpler stunts and then +turn them over to Jeb Rushmore. Apparently, they did not share the +general prejudice and he liked to be with them. + +One afternoon he returned with three or four of these youngsters and +lingered on the hill to chat with Garry. He had come to feel more at +home here than anywhere else. + +"How's the kid?" Tom asked, as the sandy haired boy came out of the +cabin and passed him without speaking. + +"Fine. You ought to see him eat. He's a whole famine in himself. You +mustn't mind him," he added; "he has notions." + +"Oh," said Tom, "I'm used to being snubbed. It just amuses me in his +case." + +"How's tracking?" + +"Punk. There's so much dust you can't make a track. What we need is +rain, so we can get some good plain prints. That's the only way to teach +a tenderfoot. Jeb says dust ought to be good enough, but he's a fiend." + +"He could track an aeroplane," said Garry. "Everything's pretty dry, I +guess." + +"You'd say so," said Tom, "if you were down through those east woods. +You could light a twig with a sun glass. They're having forest fires up +back of Tannerstown." + +"I saw the smoke," said Garry. + +"There's a couple of hoboes down the cut a ways; we tracked them today, +cooking over a loose fire. I tried to get them to cut it out; told 'em +they'd have the whole woods started. They only laughed. I'm going to +report it to J. R." + +"They on the camp land?" + +"If they were they'd have been off before this." + +They strolled out to the edge of the cut and looked off across the +country beyond where the waning sunlight fell upon the dense woods, +touching the higher trees with its lurid glow. Over that way smoke arose +and curled away in the first twilight. + +"There's some good timber gone to kindling wood over there," said Garry. + +"It's going to blow up to-night," said Tom; "look at the flag." + +They watched the banner as it fluttered and spread in the freshening +breeze. + +"Looks pretty, don't it?" said Tom. "Shall we haul it down?" + +"No, let the kid do it." + +Garry called and the little fellow came over for the task he loved. + +"Sunset," said Garry. "Now just look at his muscle," he added, winking +at Tom. "By the time this precious three weeks is up, he'll be a regular +Samson." + +Garry walked a few paces down the hill with Tom. "I wish I could have +had a chance to thank Mr. Temple when he was here," he said, "for this +bully camp and that extra time arrangement." + +"He deserves thanks," said Tom. + +They walked on for a few moments in silence. + +"You--_you_ don't think I'm a coward, do you?" said Tom, suddenly. "I +wouldn't speak about it to anyone but you. But I can't help thinking +about it sometimes. I wouldn't speak about it even to Roy--now." + +"Of course, I don't. I think you were a little rattled, that's all. I've +been the same myself. For a couple of seconds you didn't know what to +do--you were just up in the air--and by the time you got a grip on +yourself--I had cheated you out of it. You were just going to dive, +weren't you?" + +"Sometimes it's hard to make a fellow understand," said Tom, not +answering the question. "I can't tell you just what I was thinking. +That's my own business. I--I've got it in my Handbook. But all I want to +know is, _you_ don't think I'm a coward, do you?" + +"Sure, I don't." + +Garry turned back and Tom went on down the winding path through the +woods to camp. The breeze, becoming brisker, blew the leaves this way +and that, and as he plodded on through the dusk he had to lower his head +to keep his hat from blowing off. The wind brought with it a faint but +pungent odor which reminded him of the autumn days at home when he and +Roy raked up the leaves and burned them behind the Blakeley house. He +avoided this train of thought. His face was stolid, and his manner +dogged as he hurried on, with the rather clumsy gait which still bore +the faintest trace of the old shuffle Barrel Alley had known so well. + +Near the camp he ran plunk into Roy. + +"Hello," he said. + +"Hello," said Roy, and passed on. + +"Roy," Tom called after him, "I want to speak to you a minute." + +Roy paused. + +"I--I was thinking--do you smell smoke, Roy? It makes me think how we +used to rake up the leaves." + +Roy said nothing. + +"I understand the troop is going home tomorrow and some of you are going +in the _Good Turn_. I hope you'll have a fine trip--like when we came +up. I wish you could all stay longer. It makes me kind of homesick to +see you all go." + +"We might have stayed longer," said Roy, coldly, "only--is that all you +want to say to me?" he broke off. + +"I just want to say good-bye and----" + +"All right, good-bye," said Roy, and walked away. + +Tom watched him for a few seconds, then went on down to supper. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN CROSS + + +The wind had become so strong that it was necessary to move the mess +boards around to the leeward side of the pavilion. Several fellows +remarked on the pungent odor which permeated the air and a couple who +had been stalking spoke of the woods fires over beyond Tannerstown. + +Garry was not at supper, nor the little sandy-haired fellow, but the +others of his patrol came down before the meal was over. + +"Guess we'll cut out yarns to-night," said Jeb Rushmore, "and hike out on +a little tour of inspection." + +"There are a couple of tramps in the woods this side of the cut, right +up the hill a ways," said Tom. + +"We need rain, that's sure," said another scout. + +"Maybe we'll get some with this wind," remarked another. + +"No, I reckon it's a dry wind," said Mr. Rushmore, looking about and +sniffing audibly. "Gol smash it," he added, rising and sniffing still +louder. "Thar's somethin' in the air." + +For a minute he stood near his place, then strode off up the hill a +little way, among the trees, where he paused, listening, like an animal +at bay. They could see his dark form dimly outlined in the darker night. + +"J. R.'s on the scent," remarked Doc. Carson. + +Several fellows rose to join him and just at that minute Westy Martin, +of the Silver Foxes, and a scout from a Maryland troop who had been +stalking, came rushing pell-mell into camp. + +"The woods are on fire!" gasped Westy. "Up the hill! Look!" + +"I seed it," said Jeb. "The wind's bringin' it." + +"You can't get through up there," Westy panted. "We had to go around." + +"Ye couldn't get round by now. B'ys, we're a-goin' ter git it for sure. +It's goin' ter blow fire." + +For a moment he stood looking up into the woods, with the boys about +him, straining their eyes to see the patches of fire which were visible +here and there. Suddenly these patches seemed to merge and make the +night lurid with a red glare, a perfect pandemonium of crackling and +roaring assailed the silent night and clouds of suffocating smoke +enveloped them. + +The fire, like some heartless savage beast, had stolen upon them +unawares and was ready to spring. + +Jeb Rushmore was calm and self-contained and so were most of the boys as +they stood ready to do his bidding. + +"Naow, ye see what I meant when I said a leopard's as sneaky as a fire," +said Jeb. "Here, you Bridgeboro troop and them two Maryland troops and +the troop from Washin't'n," he called, "you make a bucket line like we +practiced. Tom--whar's Tom? And you Oakwood b'ys, git the buckets out'n +the provish'n camp. Line up thar ri' down t' the water's edge and come +up through here. You fellers from Pennsylvany 'n' you others thar, git +the axes 'n' come 'long o' me. Don't git rattled, now." + +Like clockwork they formed a line from the lake up around the camp, +completely encircling it. The fire crept nearer every second, stifling +them with its pungent smoke. Other scouts, some with long axes, others +with belt axes, followed Jeb Rushmore, chopping down the small trees +which he indicated along the path made by this human line. In less than +a minute fifty or more scouts were working desperately felling trees +along the path. Fortunately, the trees were small, and fortunately, too, +the scouts knew how to fell them so that they fell in each case away +from the path, leaving an open way behind the camp. + +Along this open way the line stood, and thus the full buckets passing +from hand to hand with almost the precision of machinery, were emptied +along this open area, soaking it. + +"The rest o' you b'ys," called Jeb, "climb up on the cabins--one on each +cabin, and three or four uv ye on the pavilion. Some o' ye stay below to +pass the buckets up. Keep the roofs wet--that's whar the sparks'll +light. Hey, Tom!" + +As the hurried work went on one of Garry's troop grasped Jeb by the arm. +"How about our cabin?" said he, fearfully. "There are two fellows up +there." + +Jeb paused a moment, but shook his head. "They'll hev ter risk jumpin' +int' th' cut," said he. "No mortal man c'u'd git to 'em through them +woods naow." + +The boy fell back, sick at heart as he thought of those two on the +lonely hill surrounded by flame and with a leap from the precipice as +their only alternative. It was simply a choice between two forms of +awful death. + +The fire had now swept to within a few yards of the outer edge of the +camp, but an open way had been cleared and saturated to check its +advance and the roofs of the shacks were kept soaked by a score or more +of alert workers as a precaution against the blowing sparks. + +Tom Slade had not answered any of Jeb's calls for him. At the time of +his chief's last summons he was a couple of hundred feet from the +buildings, tearing and tugging at one of the overflow tents. Like a +madman and with a strength born of desperation he dragged the pole down +and, wrenching the stakes out of the ground by main force, never +stopping to untie the ropes, he hauled the whole dishevelled mass free +of the paraphernalia which had been beneath it, down to the lake. Duffel +bags rolled out from under it, the uprooted stakes which came along with +it caught among trees and were torn away, the long clumsy canvas trail +rebelled and clung to many an obstruction, only to be torn and ripped as +it was hauled willy-nilly to the shore of the lake. + +In he strode, tugging, wrenching, dragging it after him. Part of it +floated because of the air imprisoned beneath it, but gradually sank as +it became soaked. Standing knee-deep, he held fast to one corner of it +and waited during one precious minute while it absorbed as much of the +water as it could hold. + +It was twice as heavy now, but he was twice as strong, for he was twice +as desperate and had the strength of an unconquerable purpose. The lips +of his big mouth were drawn tight, his shock of hair hung about his +stolid face as with bulldog strength and tenacity he dragged the dead +weight of dripping canvas after him up onto the shore. The water +trickled out of its clinging folds as he raised one side of the soaking +fabric, and dragged the whole mass up to the provision cabin. + +He seized the coil of lasso rope and hung it around his neck, then +raising the canvas, he pulled it over his head like a shawl and pinned +it about him with the steel clutch of his fingers, one hand at neck and +one below. + +Up through the blazing woods he started with the leaden weight of this +dripping winding sheet upon him and catching in the hubbly obstructions +in his path. The water streamed down his face and he felt the chill of +it as it permeated his clothes, but that was well--it was his only +friend and ally now. + +Like some ghostly bride he stumbled up through the lurid night, dragging +the unwieldly train behind him. Apparently no one saw this strange +apparition as it disappeared amid the enveloping flames. + +"Tom--whar's Tom?" called Jeb Rushmore again. + +Up the hill he went, tearing his dripping armor when it caught, and +pausing at last to lift the soaking train and wind that about him also. + +The crackling flames gathering about him like a pack of hungry wolves +hissed as they lapped against his wet shroud, and drew back, baffled, +only to assail him again. The trail was narrow and the flames close on +either side. + +Once, twice, the drying fabric was aflame, but he wrapped it under +wetter folds. His face was burning hot; he strove with might and main +against the dreadful faintness caused by the heat, and the smoke all but +suffocated him. + +On and up he pressed, stooping and sometimes almost creeping, for it was +easier near the ground. Now he held the drying canvas with his teeth +and beat with his hands to extinguish the persistent flames. His power +of resistance was all but gone and as he realized it his heart sank +within him. At last, stooping like some sneaking thing, he reached the +sparser growth near the cut. + +Two boys who had been driven to the verge of the precipice and lingered +there in dread of the alternative they must take, saw a strange sight. A +dull gray mass, with two ghostly hands reaching out and slapping at it, +and a wild-eyed face completely framed by its charred and blackening +shroud, emerged from amid the fire and smoke and came straight toward +them. + +"What is it?" whispered the younger boy, drawing closer to Garry in +momentary fright at the sight of this spectral thing. + +"Don't jump--it's me--Tom Slade! Here, take this rope, quick. I guess it +isn't burned any. I meant to wet it, too," he gasped. "Is that tree +solid? I can't seem to see. All right, quick! I can't do it. Make a loop +and put it under his arms and let him down." + +There was not a minute to spare, and no time for explanations or +questions. Garry lowered the boy into the cut. + +"Now you'll have to let me down, I'm afraid," said Tom. "My hands are +funny and I can't--I can't go hand over hand." + +"That's easy," said Garry. + +But it was not so easy as it had been to lower the smaller boy. He had +to encircle the tree twice with the rope to guard against a too rapid +descent, and to smooth the precipice where the rope went over the edge +to keep it from cutting. When Tom had been lowered into the cut, Garry +himself went down hand over hand. + +It was cool down there, but they could hear the wild flames raging above +and many sparks descended and died on the already burned surface. The +air blew in a strong, refreshing draught through the deep gully, and the +three boys, hardly realizing their hair-breadth escape, seemed to be in +a different world, or rather, in the cellar of the world above, which +was being swept by that heartless roistering wind and fire. + + * * * * * + +Along through the cut they came, a dozen or more scarred and weary +scouts, their clothing in tatters, anxious and breathing heavily. They +had come by the long way around the edge of the woods and got into the +cut where the hill was low and the gully shallow. + +"Is anyone there?" a scout called, as they neared the point above which +Hero Cabin had stood. They knew well enough that no one could be left +alive above. + +"We're here," called Garry. + +"Hurt? Did you jump--both of you?" + +"Three, the kid and I and Tom Slade." + +"Tom Slade? How did _he_ get here?" + +"Came up through the woods and brought us a rope. _We're_ all right, but +he's played out. Got a stretcher?" + +"Sure." + +They came up, swinging their lanterns, to where Tom lay on the ground +with Garry's jacket folded under his head for a pillow, and they +listened soberly to Garry's simple tale of the strange, shrouded +apparition that had emerged from the flames with the precious life line +coiled about its neck. + +It was hard to believe, but there were the cold facts, and they could +only stand about, silent and aghast at what they heard. + +"We missed him," said one scout. + +"Is the camp saved?" asked Garry. + +"Mostly, but we had a stiff job." + +"Don't talk about _our_ job," said Doc Carson as he stooped, holding +the lantern before Tom's blackened face and taking his wrist to feel the +pulse. + +Again there was silence as they all stood about and the little +sandy-haired fellow with the cough crept close to the prostrate form and +gazed, fascinated, into that stolid, homely face. + +And still no one spoke. + +"It means the gold cross," someone whispered. + +"Do you think the gold cross is good enough?" Garry asked, quietly. + +"It's the best we have." + +Then Roy, who was among them, kneeled down and put his arm out toward +Tom. + +"Don't touch my hand," said Tom, faintly. "It isn't that I don't want to +shake hands with you," he added. "I wanted to do that when I met +you--before supper. Only my hands feel funny--tingly, kind of--and they +hurt. + +"Any of my own patrol here?" he asked after a moment. + +"Yes, Connie Bennett's here--and Will Bronson." + +"Then I'd rather have them carry the stretcher, and I'd like for you to +walk along by me--I got something to say to you." + +They did as he asked, the others following at a little distance, except +the little sandy-haired boy who persisted in running forward until Garry +called him back and kept his own deterring arm about the boy's shoulder. + +"I don't mind my own patrol hearing--or you. I don't care about the gold +cross. It's only what it means that counts--sort of. I let Garry save +your brother, Will, because I knew he needed to stay longer--I knew +about that kid not being strong--that's all. I can go through water as +easy as I can through fire--it's--it's easier--if it comes to that." + +"Don't try to talk, Tom," said Roy, brokenly. + +"But I wouldn't tell even you, Roy, because--because if he'd found it +out he wouldn't think it was fair--and he wouldn't have taken it. That's +the kind of a fellow he is, Roy." + +"Yes, I know what kind of a fellow he is," said Roy. + +"Anyway, it's no matter now. You see yourself Hero Cabin is burned down. +A fellow might--he might even lose the cross. It's the three weeks that +counted--see?" + +"Yes, I see," said Roy. + +"And tomorrow I want to go back with you fellows in the _Good +Turn_--and see Mr. Temple. I want to ask him if that kid can stay with +Jeb 'till Christmas. Then I'll come back up to camp. I've thought a lot +lately about our trip up in the _Good Turn_, Roy." + +"Yes--so have I, Tom. But don't talk now. Doc doesn't want you to." + +"We've got to find Harry Stanton," said Tom, after a few minutes. + +"Yes," said Roy. + +But whether they ever did find him and the singular adventures attending +their quest, are really part of another story. + +THE END + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Tom Slade at Temple Camp, by Percy K. 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Fitzhugh + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + p.titleblock {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; text-indent: 0; text-align: center;} + p.letter {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; + position: absolute; right: 2%; border:1px solid white; + padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; + color: #444; background-color: #EEE;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + td.pr {padding-right:10px;} + hr.full {width:100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.major {width:75%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.minor {width:30%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom Slade at Temple Camp, by Percy K. Fitzhugh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tom Slade at Temple Camp + +Author: Percy K. Fitzhugh + +Release Date: October 10, 2006 [EBook #19522] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<table width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='' border='1'><tr><td> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 220%; margin-top: 20px; font-weight: bold;">TOM SLADE</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 180%; margin-bottom: 40px;">AT TEMPLE CAMP</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-style: italic;">By</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 120%; margin-bottom: 40px;">PERCY K. FITZHUGH</p> +<p class="titleblock">Author of</p> +<p class="titleblock">THE TOM SLADE BOOKS</p> +<p class="titleblock">THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="margin-bottom: 40px;">THE PEE-WEE HARRIS BOOKS</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-style: italic;">Published with the approval of</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="margin-bottom: 40px;">THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 120%;">WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="margin-bottom: 20px;">RACINE, WISCONSIN</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<table width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='' border='0'><tr><td> +<p class="titleblock">Copyright, MCMXVII</p> +<p class="titleblock">GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p class="titleblock">Printed in the United States of America</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<col style="width:20%;" /> +<col style="width:70%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">I</td> + <td align="left">ROY'S SACRIFICE</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">II</td> + <td align="left">INDIAN SCOUT SIGN</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">10</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">III</td> + <td align="left">PEE-WEE AND MARY TEMPLE</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">IV</td> + <td align="left">TOM AND ROY</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">V</td> + <td align="left">FIRST COUP OF THE MASCOT</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">VI</td> + <td align="left">THE SHELTER</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">52</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">VII</td> + <td align="left">THE "GOOD TURN"</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">VIII</td> + <td align="left">BON VOYAGE!</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">79</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">IX</td> + <td align="left">THE MYSTERY</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">94</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">X</td> + <td align="left">PEE-WEE'S ADVENTURE</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XI</td> + <td align="left">TRACKS AND TRAILING</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">124</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XII</td> + <td align="left">THE LONG ARM OF THE SCOUT</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">136</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XIII</td> + <td align="left">TEMPLE CAMP</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">150</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XIV</td> + <td align="left">HERO CABIN</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XV</td> + <td align="left">COWARD!</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">177</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XVI</td> + <td align="left">OSTRACIZED</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">188</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr" align="right">XVII</td> + <td align="left">THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN CROSS</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">197</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2><h3>ROY'S SACRIFICE</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Rejected by a large majority—I mean, elected by a large majority."</p> + +<p>Roy Blakeley gathered up the ballots in his two hands, dropped them into +the shoe box and pushed the box across the table to Mr. Ellsworth as if +the matter were finally settled.</p> + +<p>"Honorable Roy Blakeley," he added, "didn't even carry his own patrol."</p> + +<p>This humiliating confession, offered in Roy's gayest manner, was true. +The Silver Foxes had turned from their leader and, to a scout, voted for +Tom Slade. It was hinted that Roy himself was responsible for this, but +he was a good politician and would not talk. There was also a dark rumor +that a certain young lady was mixed up in the matter and it is a fact +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span>that only the night before Roy and Mary Temple had been seen in earnest +converse on the wide veranda at Grantley Square by Pee-wee Harris, who +believed that a scout should be observant.</p> + +<p>Be this as it may, Tom had carried his own patrol, the Elks, +unanimously, and the Silver Foxes had voted for him like instructed +delegates, while among the proud and dignified Ravens there had been but +one dissenting vote. Someone had cast this for Pee-wee Harris, the +Silver Fox mascot and the troop's chief exhibit. But, of course, it was +only a joke. The idea of Pee-wee going away as assistant camp manager +was preposterous. Why, you could hardly see him without a magnifying +glass.</p> + +<p>"If this particular majority had been much larger," announced Roy, "it +wouldn't have been a majority at all; it would have been a unanimity."</p> + +<p>"A una <i>what</i>?" someone asked.</p> + +<p>"A unanimity—that's Latin for home run. Seems a pity that the only +thing that prevented a clean sweep was a little three-foot pocket +edition of a boy scout——"</p> + +<p>At this moment, Pee-wee, by a miracle of dexterity, landed a ball of +twine plunk in the middle of Roy's face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span></p> + +<p>"Roy," laughed Mr. Ellsworth, "you're a good campaign manager."</p> + +<p>"He's a boss," shouted Pee-wee, "that's what he is. A boss is a feller +that has people elected and then makes them do what he says."</p> + +<p>"Well, you were glad enough to vote for him with the rest, weren't you?" +laughed the scoutmaster.</p> + +<p>And Pee-wee had to confess that he was.</p> + +<p>But there was no doubt that Roy had managed the whole thing, and if ever +political boss saw his fondest wishes realized Roy did now.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Mr. Ellsworth, "that it is up to Tom to deliver his +speech of acceptance."</p> + +<p>"Sure it is," said Westy Martin (Silver Fox). "We want to know his +policies. Is he going to favor the Elks or is he going to be neutral?"</p> + +<p>"Is he for troop first or camp first?" asked Doc. Carson (Raven and +First-aid scout).</p> + +<p>"Is Roy Blakeley going to come in for three or four helpings at mess +because he ran the campaign?" asked Connie Bennett, of the new Elks.</p> + +<p>"Speech, speech!" called Eddie Ingram, of the Silver Foxes.</p> + +<p>Tom looked uneasily at Mr. Ellsworth and on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> the scoutmaster's laughing +nod of encouragement arose.</p> + +<p>He was not at his best in a thing of this kind; he had always envied Roy +his easy, bantering manner, but he was not the one to shirk a duty, so +he stood up.</p> + +<p>He was about fifteen and of a heavy, ungraceful build. His hair was +thick and rather scraggly, his face was of the square type, and his +expression what people call stolid. He had freckles but not too many, +and his mouth was large and his lips tight-set. His face wore a +characteristic frown which was the last feeble trace of a lowering look +which had once disfigured it. Frowns are in the taboo list of the +scouts, but somehow this one wasn't half bad; there was a kind of rugged +strength in it. He wore khaki trousers and a brown flannel shirt which +was unbuttoned in front, exposing an expanse of very brown chest.</p> + +<p>For Tom Slade's virtues you will have to plow through these pages if you +have not already met him, but for his faults, they were printed all over +him like cities on a map. He was stubborn, rather reticent, sometimes +unreasonable, and carried with him that air of stolid self-confidence +which is apt to be found in one who has surmounted obstacles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> and risen +in spite of handicaps. It was often said in the troop that one never +knew how to take Tom.</p> + +<p>"I think Pee-wee is right," he said, "and I guess Roy managed this. I +could see he was doing some private wig-wag work, and I think you've all +been—what d'you call it—co-something or other——"</p> + +<p>"Coerced!" suggested Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>(Cries of "No, you're crazy!")</p> + +<p>"But as long as I'm elected I'll take the job—and I'm very thankful. I +won't deny I wanted it. Roy won't get any favors." (Cheers) "If I have +any deciding to do I'll decide the way I think is right. That's all I've +got to say—oh, yes, there's one thing more—one thing I made up my mind +to in case I was lucky enough to get elected." (Cries of "Hear, hear!") +"I'm not going to go by the railroad. I got an idea, like, that it +doesn't took right for a scout to go to camp by train. So I'm going to +hike it up to the camp. I'm going to start early enough so I can do it. +When a scout steps off a train he looks like a summer boarder. I ask Roy +to go with me if he can start when I do. I don't want you fellows to +think I was expecting to be chosen. I didn't let myself think about it. +But sometimes you can't help<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> thinking about a thing; and the other +night I said to myself that if anything should happen I should get +elected——"</p> + +<p>(A voice, "You didn't do a thing but walk away with it, Tommy!")</p> + +<p>(Cries of "Shut up till he gets through!")</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't go to that camp in a train. I'm not going to set foot in it +till I'm qualified for a first-class scout, and I'm going to do the rest +of my stunts on the way. I want Roy to go with me if he can. I thank you +for electing me. I'll do my best in that job. If I knew how to say it, +I'd thank you better. I guess I'm kind of rattled."</p> + +<p>The blunt little speech was very characteristic of Tom and it was +greeted with a storm of applause. He had a way of blurting out his plans +and ideas without giving any previous hint of them, but this was +something of a knockout blow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you hit it right!" shouted Pee-wee. "Gee, I do hate railroad +trains—railroad trains and homework."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean you're going to hike it from here, Tom, do you?" asked +Mr. Ellsworth.</p> + +<p>"I had an idea I might canoe up as far as Nyack," said Tom, "and then +follow the river up to Catskill Landing and hit in for Leeds—but,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> of +course," he added, "I didn't really expect to be elected."</p> + +<p>"Oh, crinkums!" shouted Pee-wee. "I'll go with you!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Roy, when the laughter had subsided, "this is a new wrinkle +and it sounds rather risky for a half-baked Elk——" (Hisses from the +Elks) "So far as I'm concerned, I think a hike of a hundred miles or +so——"</p> + +<p>"You're crazy!" interrupted Pee-wee. "You silver-plated Fox——"</p> + +<p>"Is too much," concluded Roy. "In the first place, there would have to +be a whole lot of discomfort." (Hisses) "A fellow would be pretty sure +to get his feet wet." (Mr. Ellsworth restrained Pee-wee with +difficulty.) "He would have to sleep out of doors in the damp night +air——" (A voice, "Slap him on the wrist!") "And he would be likely to +get lost. Scouts, it's no fun to be lost in the woods——" (Cries of +"Yes, it is!") "We would be footsore and weary," continued Roy.</p> + +<p>"You got that out of a book!" shouted Pee-wee. "<i>Footsore and +weary</i>—that's the way folks talk in books!"</p> + +<p>"We might be caught in the rain," said Roy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> soberly. "We might have to +pick our way along obscure trail or up steep mountains."</p> + +<p>"You ought to go and take a ride in a merry-go-round," cried Pee-wee, +sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"In short, it is fraught with peril," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"You got <i>that</i> out of a book, too," said Pee-wee, disgustedly, +"<i>fraught with peril</i>!"</p> + +<p>"I think it is too much of an undertaking," said Roy, ignoring him. "We +can get round-trip tickets."</p> + +<p>Pee-wee almost fell off his chair.</p> + +<p>"But, of course," continued Roy, soberly, "a scout is not supposed to +think of himself—especially a Silver Fox. I am a Silver +Fox—sterling—warranted. A scout is a brother to every other scout. He +ought to be ready to make sacrifices." (Mr. Ellsworth began to chuckle.)</p> + +<p>"He ought not to stand by and see a fellow scout in danger. He ought not +to stand and see a poor Elk go headlong——" (Hisses) "He ought to be +ready with a good turn regardless of his own comfort and safety." (Hoots +and laughter) "I am ready with a good turn. I am ready to sac——" +(Jeers) "I am ready to sac——" (Jeers) "I am——" (Cries of "Noble +lad!") "I am ready to sac——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, go ahead and <i>sac</i>, why don't you?" shouted Pee-wee in disgust. +"You're a hyp——"</p> + +<p>"Hip—hooray!" concluded several scouts.</p> + +<p>"You're a hyp—hyp—hypocrite!" Pee-wee managed to ejaculate amid the +tumult.</p> + +<p>"I am ready to sac——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on, sac and be done with it!"</p> + +<p>"I am ready to sacrifice myself for Tom Slade," finished Roy, +magnanimously. "Tom," he added, extending his hand across the table with +a noble air of martyrdom, "Tom, I will go with you!"</p> + +<p>The meeting broke up gaily, Mr. Ellsworth saying that he would certainly +communicate Roy's generous and self-sacrificing offer to National +Headquarters as a conspicuous instance of a memorable and epoch-making +good turn.</p> + +<p>"He gets my goat!" said Pee-wee to the scoutmaster.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad," said Mr. Ellsworth, soberly, "that our summer begins +with a good turn. The Silver Foxes should be proud of their unselfish +leader." Then he turned to Doc. Carson and winked the other eye.</p> + +<p>He was a great jollier—Mr. Ellsworth.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 100px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="illus-001" id="illus-001"></a> +<img src='images/illus-ch2.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '116'/> +</div> + +<p>The old Indian scout sign, which is the title of this chapter, means +<i>There is nothing new along this trail and it brings you back to the +same place.</i> If you are already acquainted with Tom Slade and his +friends you will be safe in skipping this chapter but, otherwise, you +would better read it for it will tell you a little of Tom's past history +and of the other scouts with whom you are to become acquainted in this +volume.</p> + +<p>To know just how all this election business came about we must go back a +year or so to a time when Tom Slade was just a hoodlum down in Barrel +Alley and believed with all his heart that the best use a barrel stave +could be put to was to throw it into the Chinese laundry. He had heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +of the Boy Scouts and he called them "regiment guys" and had a +sophisticated contempt for them.</p> + +<p>Then all of a sudden, along had come Roy Blakeley, who had shown him +that he was just wasting good barrel staves; that you could make a +first-class Indian bow out of a barrel stave. Roy had also told him that +you can't smoke cigarettes if you expect to aim straight. That was an +end of the barrel as a missile and that was an end of <i>Turkish Blend +Mixture</i>—or whatever you call it. There wasn't any talk or +preaching—just a couple of good knockout blows.</p> + +<p>Tom had held that of all the joys in the mischievous hoodlum program +none was so complete as that of throwing chunks of coal through +streetcar windows at the passengers inside. Then along had come Westy +Martin and shown him how you could mark patrol signs on rocks with +chunks of coal—signs which should guide the watchful scout through the +trackless wilderness. Exit coal as a missile.</p> + +<p>In short, Tom Slade awoke to the realization not only that he was a +hoodlum, but that he was out of date with his vulgar slang and bungling, +unskilful tricks.</p> + +<p>Tom and his father had lived in two rooms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> in one of John Temple's +tenements down in Barrel Alley and John Temple and his wife and daughter +lived in a couple of dozen rooms, a few lawns, porches, sun-parlors and +things up in Grantley Square. And John Temple stood a better chance of +being struck by lightning than of collecting the rent from Bill Slade.</p> + +<p>John Temple was very rich and very grouchy. He owned the Bridgeboro +National Bank; he owned all the vacant lots with their hospitable "Keep +Out" signs, and he had a controlling interest in pretty nearly +everything else in town—except his own temper.</p> + +<p>Poor, lazy Bill Slade and his misguided son might have gone on living in +John Temple's tenement rent free until it fell in a heap, for though Mr. +Temple blustered he was not bad at heart; but on an evil day Tom had +thrown a rock at Bridgeboro's distinguished citizen. It was a random, +unscientific shot but, as luck would have it, it knocked John Temple's +new golf cap off into the rich mud of Barrel Alley.</p> + +<p>It did not hurt John Temple, but it killed the goose that laid the +golden eggs for the Slades. Mr. Temple's dignity was more than hurt; it +was black and blue. He would rather have been hit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> by a financial panic +than by that sordid missile from Barrel Alley's most notorious hoodlum. +Inside of three days out went the Slades from John Temple's tenement, +bag and baggage.</p> + +<p>There wasn't much baggage. A couple of broken chairs, a greasy +dining-table which Tom had used strategically in his defensive +operations against his father's assaults, a dented beer-can and a few +other dilapidated odds and ends constituted the household effects of the +unfortunate father and son.</p> + +<p>Bill Slade, unable to cope with this unexpected disaster, disappeared on +the day of the eviction and Tom was sheltered by a kindly neighbor, Mrs. +O'Connor.</p> + +<p>His fortunes were at the very lowest ebb and it seemed a fairly safe +prophesy that he would presently land in the Home for Wayward Boys, when +one day he met Roy Blakeley and tried to hold him up for a nickel.</p> + +<p>Far be it from me to defend the act, but it was about the best thing +that Tom ever did so far as his own interests were concerned. Roy took +him up to his own little Camp Solitaire on the beautiful lawn of the +Blakeley home, gave him a cup of coffee, some plum duff (Silver Fox +brand,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> patent applied for), and passed him out some of the funniest +slang (all brand new) that poor Tom had ever heard.</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of Tom's transformation into a scout. He fell for +scouting with a vengeance. It opened up a new world to him. To be sure, +this king of the hoodlums did not capitulate all at once—not he. He was +still wary of all "rich guys" and "sissies"; but he used to go down and +peek through a hole in the fence of Temple's lot when they were +practising their games.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ellsworth said nothing, only winked his eye at the boys, for he saw +which way the wind was blowing. Tom Slade, king of the hoodlums, had the +scout bug and didn't know it.</p> + +<p>Then, when the time was ripe, Mr. Ellsworth called him down into the +field one day for a try at archery. Tom scrambled down from the fence +and shuffled over to where the scouts waited with smiling, friendly +faces; but just at that moment, who should come striding through the +field but John Temple—straight for the little group.</p> + +<p>What happened was not pleasant. John Temple denounced them all as a gang +of trespassers, ordered them out of his field and did not hesitate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> to +express his opinion of Tom in particular. Mr. Ellsworth then and there +championed the poor fellow and prophesied that notwithstanding his past +the scouts would make a man of him yet.</p> + +<p>After that Tom Slade came out flat-footed and hit the scout trail. He +was never able to determine to whom he should be most grateful, Roy +Blakeley or Mr. Ellsworth, but it was the beginning of a friendship +between the two boys which became closer as time passed.</p> + +<p>There is no use retelling a tale that is told. Tom had such a summer in +camp as he had never dreamed of when he used to lie in bed till noontime +in Barrel Alley, and all that you shall find in its proper place, but +you must know something of how Temple Camp came into being and how it +came by its name.</p> + +<p>John Temple was a wonderful man—oh, he was smart. He could take care of +your property for you; if you had a thousand dollars he would turn it +into two thousand for you—like a sleight-of-hand performer. He could +tell you what kind of stocks to buy and when to sell them. He knew where +to buy real estate. He could tell you when wheat was going up or +down—just as if there were a scout sign to go by. He had everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> +that heart could wish—and the rheumatism besides.</p> + +<p>But his dubious prophesy as to the future of Tom Slade, king of the +hoodlums, came out all wrong. Tom was instrumental in getting back a pin +which had been stolen from Mary Temple, and when her father saw the boy +after six months or so of scouting he couldn't have been more +surprised—not even if the Bridgeboro Bank had failed.</p> + +<p>Then poor old John Temple (or rich old John Temple) showed that he had +one good scout trait. He could be a good loser. He saw that he was all +wrong and that Mr. Ellsworth was right and he straightway built a +pavilion for the scouts in the beautiful woods where all the surprising +episodes of the summer which had opened his eyes had taken place.</p> + +<p>But you know as well as I do that a man like John Temple would never be +satisfied with building a little one-troop camping pavilion; not he. So +what should he do but buy a tract of land up in the Catskills close to a +beautiful sheet of water which was called Black Lake; and here he put up +a big open shack with a dozen or so log cabins about it and endowed the +whole thing as a summer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> camp where troops from all over the country +might come and find accommodations and recreation in the summer months.</p> + +<p>That was not all. Temple Camp was to be a school where scouting might be +taught (Oh, he was going to do the right thing, was old John Temple!), +and to that end he communicated with somebody who communicated with +somebody else, who got in touch with somebody else who went to some +ranch or other a hundred miles from nowhere in the woolly west and asked +old Jeb Rushmore if he wouldn't come east and look after this big scout +camp. How in the world John Temple, in his big leather chair in the +Bridgeboro Bank, had ever got wind of Jeb Rushmore no one was able to +find out. John Temple was a genius for picking out men and in this case +he touched high-water mark.</p> + +<p>Jeb Rushmore was furnished with passes over all John Temple's railroads +straight through from somewhere or other in Dakota to Catskill Landing, +and a funny sight he must have been in his flannel shirt and slouch hat, +sprawling his lanky limbs from the platforms of observation cars, +drawling out his pithy observations about the civilization which he had +never before seen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span></p> + +<p>There are only two more things necessary to mention in this "side trail" +chapter. Tom's father bobbed up after the boy had become a scout. He was +a mere shadow of his former self; drink and a wandering life had all but +completed his ruin, and although Tom and his companions gave him a home +in their pleasant camp it was too late to help him much and he died +among them, having seen (if it were any satisfaction for him to see) +that scouting had made a splendid boy of his once neglected son.</p> + +<p>This brings us to the main trail again and explains why it was that Roy +Blakeley had held mysterious conferences with Mary Temple, and suggested +to all the three patrols that it would be a good idea to elect Tom to go +to Temple Camp to assist in its preparation and management. They had all +known that one of their number was to be chosen for this post and Roy +had hit on Tom as the one to go because he still lived with Mrs. +O'Connor down in Barrel Alley and had not the same pleasant home +surroundings as the other boys.</p> + +<p>A scout is thoughtful.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2><h3>PEE-WEE AND MARY TEMPLE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Throughout the previous summer Tom had been in Roy's patrol, the Silver +Foxes, but when the new Elk Patrol was formed with Connie Bennett, the +Bronson boys and others, he had been chosen its leader.</p> + +<p>"I think it's just glorious," said Mary Temple, when Tom told her of his +plan and of Roy's noble sacrifice, "and I wish I was a boy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's great to be a boy," enthused Pee-wee. "Gee, that's one thing +I'm glad of anyway—that I'm a boy!"</p> + +<p>"Half a boy is better than all girl," taunted Roy.</p> + +<p>"<i>You're</i> a model boy," added Westy.</p> + +<p>"And mother and father and I are coming up in the touring car in August +to visit the camp," said Mary. "Oh, I think it's perfectly lovely you +and Tom are going on ahead and that you're going to walk, and you'll +have everything ready when the others get there. Good-bye."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> + +<p>Tom and Roy were on their way up to the Blakeley place to set about +preparing for the hike, for they meant to start as soon as they could +get ready. Pee-wee lingered upon the veranda at Temple Court swinging +his legs from the rubble-stone coping—those same legs that had made the +scout pace famous.</p> + +<p>"Oh, crinkums," he said, "they'll have <i>some</i> time! Cracky, but I'd like +to go. You don't believe all this about Roy's making a <i>noble +sacrifice</i>, do you?" he added, scornfully.</p> + +<p>Mary laughed and said she didn't.</p> + +<p>"Because that isn't a good turn," Pee-wee argued, anxious that Mary +should not get a mistaken notion of this important phase of scouting. "A +good turn is when you do something that helps somebody else. If you do +it because you get a lot of fun out of it yourself, then it isn't a good +turn at all. Of course, Roy knows that; he's only jollying when he calls +it a good turn. You have to be careful with Roy, he's a terrible +jollier—and Mr. Ellsworth's pretty near as bad. Oh, cracky, but I'd +like to go with them—that's one sure thing. You think it's no fun being +a girl and I'll admit <i>I</i> wouldn't want to be one—I got to admit that; +but it's pretty near as bad to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> be small. If you're small they jolly +you. And if I asked them to let me go they'd only laugh. Gee, I don't +mind being jollied, but I <i>would</i> like to go. That's one thing you ought +to be thankful for—you're not small. Of course, maybe girls can't do so +many things as boys—I mean scouting-like—but—oh, crinkums," he broke +off in an ecstasy of joyous reflection. "Oh, crinkums, that'll be some +trip, <i>believe me</i>."</p> + +<p>Mary Temple looked at the diminutive figure in khaki trousers which sat +before her on the coping. It was one of the good things about Pee-wee +Harris that he never dreamed how much people liked him.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Mary. "I mean about a girl not being +able to do things—scouting things. Mightn't a girl do a good turn?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure," Pee-wee conceded.</p> + +<p>"But I suppose if it gave her very much pleasure it wouldn't be a good +turn."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it might," admitted Pee-wee, anxious to explain the science of +good turns. "This is the way it is. If you do a good turn it's sure to +make you feel good—that you did it—see? But if you do it just for your +own pleasure, then it's not a good turn. But Roy puts over a lot of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> +nonsense about good turns. He does it just to make me mad—because I've +made a sort of study of them—like."</p> + +<p>Mary laughed in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"He says it was a good thing when Tom threw a barrel stave in the +Chinese laundry because it led to his being a scout. But that isn't +logic. Do you know what logic is?"</p> + +<p>Mary thought she had a notion of what it was.</p> + +<p>"A thing that's bad can't be good, can it?" Pee-wee persisted. "Suppose +you should hit me with a brick——"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't think of doing such a thing!"</p> + +<p>"But suppose you did. And suppose the scouts came along and gave me +first aid and after that I became a scout. Could you say you did me a +good turn by hitting me with a brick because that way I got to be a +scout? Roy—you got to be careful with him—you can't always tell when +he's jollying."</p> + +<p>Mary looked at him intently for a few seconds. "Well, then," said she, +"since you've made a study of good turns tell me this. If Roy and Tom +were to ask you to go with them on their long hike, would that be a good +turn?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sure it would, because it would have a sacrifice in it, don't you see?"</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Because they'd do it just to please me—they wouldn't really want me."</p> + +<p>"Well," she laughed, "Roy's good at making sacrifices."</p> + +<p>"Je-ru-salem!" said Pee-wee, shaking his head almost incredulously at +the idea of such good fortune; "that'll be some trip. But you know what +they say, and it's true—I got to admit it's true—that two's a company, +three's a crowd."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be three," laughed Mary; "it would only be two and a half."</p> + +<p>She watched the sturdy figure as Pee-wee trudged along the gravel walk +and down the street. He seemed even smaller than he had seemed on the +veranda. And it was borne in upon her how much jollying he stood for and +how many good things he missed just because he <i>was</i> little, and how +cheerful and generous-hearted he was withal.</p> + +<p>The next morning Roy received a letter which read:</p> + +<p class='letter'>"Dear Roy—I want you and Tom to ask Walter Harris to go with you. +Please don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> tell him that I asked you. You said you were going to name +one of the cabins or one of the boats for me because I took so much +interest. I'd rather have you do this. You can call it a good turn if +you want to—a real one.</p> +<p class='letter' style='text-align: right'>"<span class="smcap">Mary Temple</span>."</p> + +<p>Pee-wee Harris also received an envelope with an enclosure similar to +many which he had received of late. He suspected their source. This one +read as follows:</p> + +<p class='blockquot'> +<i>If you want to be a scout,<br /> +You must watch what you're about,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And never let a chance for mischief pass.</span><br /> +You may win the golden cross<br /> +If your ball you gayly toss<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Through the middle of a neighbor's pane of glass.</span></i> +</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2><h3>TOM AND ROY</h3> +</div> + +<p>The letter from Mary Temple fell on Camp Solitaire like a thunderbolt. +Camp Solitaire was the name which Roy had given his own cosy little tent +on the Blakeley lawn, and here he and Tom were packing duffel bags and +sharpening belt axes ready for their long tramp when the note from +Grantley Square was scaled to them by the postman as he made a short cut +across the lawn.</p> + +<p>"What do you know about that?" said Roy, clearly annoyed. "We can't take +<i>him</i>; he's too small. Who's going to take the responsibility? This is a +team hike."</p> + +<p>"You don't suppose he put the idea in her head, do you?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. You saw yourself how crazy he was about it."</p> + +<p>"Pee-wee's all right," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Sure he's all right. He's the best little camp mascot that ever +happened. But how are we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> going to take him along on this hike? And +what's he going to do when he gets there?"</p> + +<p>"He could help us on the troop cabin—getting it ready," Tom suggested.</p> + +<p>Roy threw the letter aside in disgust. "That's a girl all over," he +said, as he sulkily packed his duffel bag. "She doesn't think of what it +means—she just wants it done, that's all, so she sends her +what-d'you-call-it—edict. Pee-wee can't stand for a hundred and forty +mile hike. We'd have to get a baby carriage!"</p> + +<p>He went on with his packing, thrusting things into the depths of his +duffel bag half-heartedly and with but a fraction of his usual skill. +"You know as well as I do about team hikes. How can we fix this up for +three <i>now</i>? We've got everything ready and made all our plans; now it +seems we've got to cart this kid along or be in Dutch up at Temple's. +<i>He</i> can't hike twenty miles a day. He's just got a bee in his dome that +he'd like——"</p> + +<p>"It <i>would</i> be a good turn," interrupted Tom. "I was counting on a team +hike myself. I wanted to be off on a trip alone with you a while. I'm +disappointed too, but it <i>would</i> be a good turn—it would be a peach of +a one, so far as that's concerned."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, it wouldn't," contradicted Roy. "It would be a piece of blamed +foolishness."</p> + +<p>"He'd furnish some fun—he always does."</p> + +<p>"He'd furnish a lot of trouble and responsibility! Why can't he wait and +come up with the rest? Makes me sick!" Roy added, as he hurled the +aluminum coffee-pot out of a chair and sat down disgustedly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Now</i>, you see, you dented that," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"A lot <i>I</i> care. Gee, I'd like to call the whole thing off—that's what +I'd like to do. I'd do it for two cents."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've got two cents," said Tom, "but I'm not going to offer it. +<i>I</i> say, let's make the best of it. I've seen you holding your sides +laughing at Pee-wee. You said yourself he was a five-reel photoplay all +by himself."</p> + +<p>Roy drew a long breath and said nothing. He was plainly in his very +worst humor. He did not want Pee-wee to go. He, too, wanted to be alone +with Tom. There were plenty of good turns to be done without bothering +with this particular one. Besides, it was not a good turn, he told +himself. It would expose Walter Harris to perils—— Oh, Roy was very +generous and considerate of Walter Harris—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"If it's a question of good turns," he said, "it would be a better turn +to leave him home, where he'll be safe and happy. It's no good turn to +him, dragging him up and down mountains till he's so dog-tired he falls +all over himself—is it?"</p> + +<p>Tom smiled a little, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if that's the way you feel," said Roy, pulling the cord of +his duffel bag so tight that it snapped, "you and Pee-wee had better go +and I'll back out."</p> + +<p>"It ain't the way I feel," said Tom, in his slow way. "I'd rather go +alone with you. Didn't I say so? I guess Pee-wee thinks he's stronger +than he is. <i>I</i> think he'd better be at home too and I'd rather he'd +stay home, though it's mostly just because I want to be alone with you. +Maybe it's selfish, but if it is I can't help it. I think sometimes a +feller might do something selfish and make up for it some other +way—maybe. But I don't think any feller's got a right to do something +selfish and then call it a good turn. I don't believe a long hike would +hurt Pee-wee. He's the best scout-pacer in your patrol. But I want to go +alone with you and I'd just as soon tell Mary so. I suppose it would be +selfish, but we'd just try to make up——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up, will you!" snapped Roy. "You get on my nerves, dragging +along with your theories and things. <i>I</i> don't care who goes or if +anybody goes. And you can go home and sleep for all I care."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Tom, rising. "I'd rather do that than stay here and +fight. I don't see any use talking about whether it's a good turn to +Pee-wee." (Roy ostentatiously busied himself with his packing and +pretended not to hear.) "I wasn't thinking about Pee-wee so much anyway. +It's Mary Temple that I was thinking of. It would be a good turn to her, +you can't deny that. Pee-wee Harris has got nothing to do with it—it's +between you and me and Mary Temple."</p> + +<p>"You going home?" Roy asked, coldly.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, you and Pee-wee and Mary Temple can fix it up. I'm out of it."</p> + +<p>He took a pad and began to write, while Tom lingered in the doorway of +the tent, stolid, as he always was.</p> + +<p>"Wait and mail this for me, will you," said Roy. He wrote:</p> + +<p class='letter'>"Dear Mary—Since you butted in Tom and I have decided that it would be +best for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> Pee-wee to go with <i>him</i> and I'll stay here. Anyway, that's +what <i>I've</i> decided. So you'll get your wish, all right, and I should +worry.</p> +<p class='letter' style='text-align:right;'>"<span class="smcap">Roy</span>."</p> + +<p>Tom took the sealed envelope, but paused irresolutely in the doorway. It +was the first time that he and Roy had ever quarrelled.</p> + +<p>"What did you say to her?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Never mind what I said," Roy snapped. "You'll get your wish."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather go alone with you," said Tom, simply. "I told you that +already. I'd rather see Pee-wee stay home. I care more for you," he +said, hesitating a little, "than for anyone else. But I vote to take +Pee-wee because Mary wants—asks—us to. I wouldn't call it a good turn +leaving him home, and you wouldn't either—only you're disappointed, +same as I am. I wouldn't even call it much of a good turn taking him. We +can never pay back Mary Temple. It would be like giving her a cent when +we owed her a thousand. I got to do what I think is right—you—you made +me a scout. I—I got to be thankful to you if I can see straight. +It's—it's kind of—like a—like a trail—like," he blundered on. "There +can be trails in your mind, kind of. Once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> I chucked stones at Pee-wee +and swiped Mary's ball. Now I want to take him along—a little bit for +his sake, but mostly for hers. And I want to go alone with you for my +own sake, because—because," he hesitated, "because I want to be alone +with you. But I got to hit the right trail—you taught me that——"</p> + +<p>"Well, go ahead and hit it," said Roy, "it's right outside the door."</p> + +<p>Tom looked at him steadily for a few seconds as if he did not +understand. You might have seen something out of the ordinary then in +that stolid face. After a moment he turned and went down the hill and +around the corner of the big bank building, passed Ching Woo's laundry, +into which he had once thrown dirty barrel staves, picked his way +through the mud of Barrel Alley and entered the door of the tenement +where Mrs. O'Connor lived. He had not slept there for three nights. The +sound of cats wailing and trucks rattling and babies crying was not much +like the soughing of the wind in the elms up on the Blakeley lawn. But +if you have hit the right trail and have a good conscience you can +sleep, and Tom slept fairly well amid the din and uproar.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2><h3>FIRST COUP OF THE MASCOT</h3> +</div> + +<p>Anyway, he slept better than Roy slept. All night long the leader of the +Silver Foxes was haunted by that letter. The darkness, the breeze, the +soothing music of crickets and locusts outside his little tent +dissipated his anger, as the voices of nature are pretty sure to do, and +made him see straight, to use Tom's phrase.</p> + +<p>He thought of Tom making his lonely way back to Barrel Alley and going +to bed there amid the very scenes which he had been so anxious to have +him forget. He fancied him sitting on the edge of his cot in Mrs. +O'Connor's stuffy dining room, reading his Scout Manual. He was always +reading his Manual; he had it all marked up like a blazed trail. Roy got +small consolation now from the fact that he had procured Tom's election. +If Tom had been angry at him, his conscience would be easier now; but +Tom seldom got mad.</p> + +<p>In imagination he followed that letter to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> Temple home. He saw it +laid at Mary's place at the dining table. He saw her come dancing in to +breakfast and pick it up and wave it gaily. He saw John Temple reading +his paper at the head of the table and advising with Mary, who was his +partner in the Temple Camp enterprise. He knew it was for her sake quite +as much as for the scouts that Mr. Temple had made this splendid gift, +and he knew (for he had dined at Grantley Square) just how father and +daughter conferred together. Why, who was it but Mary that told John +Temple there must be ten thousand wooden plates and goodness knows how +many sanitary drinking cups? Mary had it all marked in the catalogues.</p> + +<p>Roy pictured her as she opened the letter and read it,—that rude, +selfish note. He wondered what she would say. And he wondered what John +Temple would think. It would be such a surprise to her that poor little +Pee-wee was not wanted.</p> + +<p>In the morning Roy arose feeling very wretched after an all but +sleepless night. He did not know what he should do that day. He might go +up to Grantley Square and apologize, but you cannot, by apology, undo +what is done.</p> + +<p>While he was cooking his breakfast he thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> of Pee-wee—Pee-wee who +was always so gay and enthusiastic, who worshipped Roy, and who "did not +mind being jollied." He would be ashamed to face Pee-wee even if that +redoubtable scout pacer were sublimely innocent of what had taken place.</p> + +<p>At about noon he saw Tom coming up the lawn. He looked a little +shamefaced as Tom came in and sat down without a word.</p> + +<p>"I—I was going to go down to see you," said Roy. "I—I feel different +now. I can see straight. I wish I hadn't——"</p> + +<p>"I've got a letter for you," said Tom, disinterestedly. "I was told to +deliver it."</p> + +<p>"You—were you at Temple's?"</p> + +<p>"There isn't any answer," said Tom, with his usual exasperating +stolidness.</p> + +<p>Roy hesitated a moment. Then, as one will take a dose of medicine +quickly to have it over, he grasped the envelope, tore it open, and +read:</p> + +<p class='letter'>"Dear Mary—Since you butted in Tom and I have decided it would be best +for Pee-wee to go with <i>him</i> and I'll stay home. Anyway, that's what +<i>I've</i> decided. So you'll get your wish, all right, and I should worry.</p> +<p class='letter' style='text-align:right'>"<span class="smcap">Roy</span>." +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span></p> +<p>He looked up into Tom's almost expressionless countenance. +"Who—told—you to deliver it—Tom?"</p> + +<p>"I told myself. You said you'd call the whole thing off for two cents. +But you ought not to expect me to pay the two cents——"</p> + +<p>"Didn't I put a stamp on it?" said Roy, looking at the envelope.</p> + +<p>"If you want to put a stamp on it now," said Tom, "I'll go and mail it +for you—but I—I didn't feel I cared to trust you for two cents—over +night."</p> + +<p>Through glistening eyes Roy looked straight at Tom, but found no +response in that dogged countenance. But he knew Tom, and knew what to +expect from him. "You old grouch," he shouted, running his hand through +Tom's already tousled and rebellious hair. "Why don't you laugh? So you +wouldn't trust me for two cents, you old Elk skinflint, wouldn't you. +Well, then, the letter doesn't get mailed, that's all, for I happen to +have only one stamp left and that's going to Pee-wee Harris. Come on, +get your wits to work now, and we'll send him the invitation in the form +of a verse, what d'you say?"</p> + +<p>He gave Tom such a push that even he couldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> help laughing as he +staggered against the tent-pole.</p> + +<p>"I'm no good at writing verse," said he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but we'll jolly the life out of that kid when we get him away," +said Roy.</p> + +<p>It is a wise precept that where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be +wise. Pee-wee Harris never dreamed of the discussion that had taken +place as to his going, and he accepted the invitation with a glad heart.</p> + +<p>On the momentous morning when the trio set forth upon their journey, +Mary Temple, as glad as they, stood upon the steps at Grantley Square +and waved them a last good-bye.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget," she called, "we're coming up in the car in August to +visit you and see the camp and that dreadful Jeb or Job or Jib or +whatever you call him, who smokes a corn-cob pipe—ugh!"</p> + +<p>The last they saw of her was a girlish shrug of disgust at that strange +personage out of the West about whom (largely for her benefit) Roy and +others had circulated the most outlandish tales. Jeb Rushmore was +already ensconced in the unfinished camp, and from the few letters which +had come from him it was judged that his excursion east had not spoiled +him. One of these missives<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> had been addressed to <i>Mister John Temple</i> +and must have been a refreshing variation from the routine mail which +awaited Mr. Temple each morning at the big granite bank. It read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Thar's a crittur come here to paint names o' animiles on the cabin +doors. I told him friendly sich wuzn't wanted, likewise no numbers. +He see it were best ter go. Bein' you put up th' money I would say +polite and likewise explain ez how the skins uv animiles is propper +fur signs an' not numbers bein' ez cabins is not railroad cars."</p></div> + +<p>This is a fair sample of the letters which were received by Mr. Temple, +by Mr. Ellsworth, and even at National Scout Headquarters, which Jeb +Rushmore called "the main ranch."</p> + +<p>The idea of putting the skin of a silver fox, for instance, on the +patrol's cabin instead of a painted caricature of that animal, took the +boys by storm, and to them at least Jeb Rushmore became a very real +character long before they ever met him. They felt that Jeb Rushmore had +the right idea and they were thrilled at the tragic possibilities of +that ominous sentence, "He see it were best to go."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span></p> + +<p>The whole troop was down at the boathouse to see the boys off. Tom and +Roy wore old khaki trousers and faded shirts which had seen service in +many a rough hike; their scarred duffel bags bore unmistakable signs of +hard usage, but Pee-wee was resplendent in his full regalia, with his +monogram burned in a complicated design into the polished leather of his +brand new duffel bag. His "trousseau," as the boys called it, was indeed +as complete and accurate as was possible. Even the scout smile, which is +not the least part of the scout make-up, was carried to a conspicuous +extreme; he smiled all over; he was one vast smile.</p> + +<p>"Don't fall off any mountains, Pee-wee."</p> + +<p>"Be sure to take your smile off when you go to bed."</p> + +<p>"If you get tired, you can jump on a train."</p> + +<p>"Pee-wee, you look as if you were posing for animal crackers."</p> + +<p>These were some of the flippant comments which were hurled at Pee-wee as +the three, in Roy's canoe, glided from the float and up the river on the +first stage of what was destined to be an adventurous journey.</p> + +<p>The river, along whose lower reaches Bridgeboro was situated, had its +source within a mile or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> two of the Hudson in the vicinity of Nyack. +From the great city it was navigable by power craft as far as Bridgeboro +and even above at full tide, but a mile or two above the boys' home town +it narrowed to a mere creek, winding its erratic way through a beautiful +country where intertwined and overarching boughs formed dim tunnels +through which the canoeist passed with no sound but the swishing of his +own paddle. The boys had never before canoed to the river's source, +though it was one of the things they had always been meaning to do. It +was a happy thought of Tom's to make it a part of their journey now and +strike into the roads along the Hudson in that way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, crinkums, I'm crazy to see Jeb Rushmore, aren't you?" said Pee-wee. +"I never thought I'd have a chance to go like this, I sure didn't! I +never thought you'd want me."</p> + +<p>"We couldn't do without you, kiddo," said Roy, as he paddled. "We +wouldn't have any luck—you're our lucky penny."</p> + +<p>"Cracky, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I got that +note. At first, I thought you must be jollying me—and even now it +doesn't seem real."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span></p> + +<p>The boys laughed. "Well, here you are, kiddo," said Roy, "so you see +it's real enough."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose we'll have any adventures?"</p> + +<p>"Why, as the little boy said when he spilled the ink on the parlor +carpet, 'that remains to be seen.' We won't side-step any, you can be +sure of that."</p> + +<p>"There may be danger awaiting us," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"Well, I only hope it'll wait till we get to it," Roy laughed. "What do +you say, kiddo, shall we hit it up for Nyack to-night or camp along the +river?"</p> + +<p>They decided to paddle leisurely, ending their canoe trip next day. +About dusk they made their camp on a steep, wooded shore, and with the +flame of their campfire reflected in the rippling water, Roy cooked +supper.</p> + +<p>Pee-wee was supremely happy. It is doubtful if he had ever before been +so happy.</p> + +<p>"There's one thing," said Tom, as he held the bacon over the flame. "I'm +going to do my first-class stunts before we get there."</p> + +<p>"And I'm going to do some tracking," said Roy; "here you go, Pee-wee, +here's a bacon sandwich—look out for the juice. This is what Daniel +Boone used to eat." He handed Pee-wee a sizzling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> slice of bacon between +two cakes of sweet chocolate!</p> + +<p>"Mmmmmmm," said Pee-wee, "that's scrumptious! Gee, I never knew +chocolate and bacon went so good together."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow for breakfast I'll give you a boiled egg stuffed with caraway +seeds," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Give him a Dan Beard omelet," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked Pee-wee, his two hands and his mouth running with +greasy chocolate.</p> + +<p>"Salt codfish with whipped cream," answered Roy. "Think you'd like it?"</p> + +<p>Pee-wee felt sure he would.</p> + +<p>"And there's one thing <i>I'm</i> going to do," he said. "Tom's going to +finish his first-class stunts and you're going to do tracking. I'm going +to——"</p> + +<p>"Have another sandwich?" interrupted Roy.</p> + +<p>"Sure. And there's one thing I'm going to do. I'm going to test some +good turns. Gee, there isn't room enough to test 'em indoors."</p> + +<p>"Good for you," said Roy; "but you'd better trot down to the river now +and wash your face. You look like the end man in a minstrel show. Then +come on back and we'll reel off some campfire yarns."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span></p> + +<p>They sat late into the night, until their fire burned low and Roy +realized, as he had never before realized, what good company Pee-wee +was. They slept as only those know how to sleep who go camping, and +early in the morning continued their journey along the upper and +tortuous reaches of the narrowing river.</p> + +<p>Early in the spring there had been a serious flood which had done much +damage even down in Bridgeboro, and the three boys as they paddled +carefully along were surprised at the havoc which had been wrought here +on the upper river. Small buildings along the shore lay toppled over, +boats were here and there marooned high and dry many yards from the +shore, and the river was almost impassable in places from the +obstructions of uprooted trees and other debris.</p> + +<p>At about noon they reached a point where the stream petered out so that +further navigation even by canoe was impossible; but they were already +in the outskirts of West Nyack.</p> + +<p>"The next number on the program," said Roy, "is to administer first aid +to the canoe in the form of a burlap bandage. Pee-wee, you're appointed +chairman of the grass committee—pick some grass and let's pad her up."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span></p> + +<p>If you have never administered "first aid" to a canoe and "padded it up" +for shipment, let me tell you that the scout way of doing it is to bind +burlap loosely around it and to stuff this with grass or hay so that the +iron hook which is so gently wielded by the expressman may not damage +the hull.</p> + +<p>Having thus prepared it for its more prosaic return journey by train, +they left the boat on the shore and following a beaten path came +presently into the very heart of the thriving metropolis of West Nyack.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if we were Lewis and Clarke, or somebody, arriving at an +Indian village," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>At the express office Roy arranged for the shipment of the canoe back to +Bridgeboro, and then they started along the road toward Nyack. It was on +this part of their journey that something happened which was destined +materially to alter their program.</p> + +<p>They had come into the main street of the village and were heading for +the road which led to the Hudson when they came upon a little group of +people looking amusedly up into an elm tree on the lawn of a stately +residence. A little girl was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> standing beneath the tree in evident +distress, occasionally wringing her hands as she looked fearfully up +into the branches. Whatever was happening there was no joke to her, +however funny it might be to the other onlookers.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Bird up there," briefly answered the nearest bystander.</p> + +<p>"She'll never get it," said another.</p> + +<p>"Oh, now he's going away," cried the little girl in despair.</p> + +<p>The contrast between her anxiety and the amusement of the others was +marked. Every time she called to the bird it flitted to another limb, +and every time the bird flitted she wrung her hands and cried. An empty +cage upon a lawn bench told the story.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" said Pee-wee, going to the child and seeking his +information first-hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll never get him," she sobbed. "He'll fly away in a minute and +I'll never see him again."</p> + +<p>Pee-wee looked up into the branches and after some difficulty succeeded +in locating a little bird somewhat smaller than a robin and as green as +the foliage amid which it was so heedlessly disporting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></p> + +<p>"I see him," said Pee-wee. "Gee, don't you cry; we'll get him some way. +We're scouts, we are, and we'll get him for you."</p> + +<p>His reassuring words did not seem to comfort the girl. "Oh, there he +goes!" she cried. "Now he's going to fly away!"</p> + +<p>He did not fly away but merely flew to another limb and began to preen +himself. For so small a bird he was attracting a great deal of notice in +the world. Following Pee-wee's lead, others including Tom and Roy +ventured upon the lawn, smiling and straining their eyes to follow the +tantalizing movements of the little fugitive.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Pee-wee to the girl, "it would be easy enough to shin +up that tree—that would be a cinch—anybody could do that—I mean any +<i>feller</i>—of course, a girl couldn't; but I'd only frighten him away."</p> + +<p>"You'll never get him," said one man.</p> + +<p>"What kind of a bird is it?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"It's a dwarf parrot," the girl sobbed, "and I'll never get him—never!"</p> + +<p>"You don't want to get discouraged," said Pee-wee. "Gee, there's always +some way."</p> + +<p>The spectators evidently did not agree with him. Some of them remained +about, smiling;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> others went away. The diminutive Pee-wee seemed to +amuse them quite as much as the diminutive parrot, but all were agreed +(as they continually remarked to each other) that the bird was a +"goner."</p> + +<p>"Is he tame?" Roy asked.</p> + +<p>"He was <i>getting</i> tame," the girl sobbed, "and he was learning to say my +name. My father would give a hundred dollars—Oh," she broke off, "now +he <i>is</i> going away!" She began to cry pitifully.</p> + +<p>Pee-wee stood a moment thoughtfully. "Have you got a garden hose?" he +presently asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you're not going to squirt water at him," said the girl, +indignantly.</p> + +<p>"If you get the garden hose," said Pee-wee, "I'll bring him down for +you."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do, kiddo?" Roy asked.</p> + +<p>"You'll see," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>The other boys looked at each other, puzzled. The girl looked half +incredulously at Pee-wee and something in his manner gave her a feeling +of hope. Most of the others laughed good-humoredly.</p> + +<p>They hauled the nozzle end of a garden hose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> from where it lay coiled +near a faucet in the stone foundation. Pee-wee took the nozzle and began +to play the stream against the trunk of the tree, all the while looking +up at the parrot. Presently, the bird began to "sit up and take notice," +as one might say. It was plainly interested. The bystanders began to +"sit up and take notice" too, and they watched the bird intently as it +cocked its head and listened. Pee-wee sent the stream a little higher up +the trunk and as he did so the bird became greatly excited. It began +uttering, in the modulated form consonant with its size, the discordant +squawk of the parrot. The little girl watched eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Get the cage," ordered Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>Roy brought it and laid it at his feet. The stream played a little +higher, and the bird chattered furiously and came lower.</p> + +<p>"Remind you of home?" Pee-wee asked, looking up and playing the water a +little higher. The bystanders watched, in silence. The bird was now upon +the lowest branch, chattering like mad and flapping its wings +frantically. The little girl, in an ecstasy of fresh hope, called to it +and danced up and down.</p> + +<p>But Pee-wee, like a true artist, neither saw nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> heard his audience. He +was playing the bird with this line of water as an angler plays a fish. +And never was moth lured by a flame more irresistibly than this little +green fugitive was lured by the splashing of that stream.</p> + +<p>"Oh, can you catch him? Can you catch him?" pleaded the girl as she +clutched Pee-wee's arm.</p> + +<p>"Let go a minute," said Pee-wee. "Now, all stand back, here goes!"</p> + +<p>He shot the stream suddenly down at the base of the tree, holding the +nozzle close so that the plashing was loud and the spray diffused. And +as an arrow goes to its mark the bird came swooping down plunk into the +middle of the spray and puddle. Still playing the stream with one hand, +Pee-wee reached carefully and with his other gently encircled the little +drenched body.</p> + +<p>"Quite an adventure, wasn't it, Greenie?" he said. "Where'd you think +you were? In the tropics?—— If you ever want to take hold of a bird," +he added, turning to the girl, "hold it this way; make a ring out of +your thumb and first finger, and let his stomach rest on the palm of +your hand. Be sure your hand isn't cold, though. Here you are—that's +right."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl could hardly speak. She stood with her dwarf parrot in her +hand, looking at the stream of water which was now shooting silently +through the grass and at the puddle which it had made, and she felt that +a miracle had been performed before her eyes. Roy, hardly less pleased +than she, stepped forward and turned off the water.</p> + +<p>"Good work," said a gentleman. "I've seen many a bird brought down, but +never in that fashion before."</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> don't use the other fashion," said Tom, with a touch of pride as +he put his hand on Pee-wee's shoulder. "Do we, kid?"</p> + +<p>"If it was a canary," said Pee-wee, "I might possibly have whistled him +down, but not near enough to catch him, I guess. But as soon as I knew +that bird came from the tropics, I knew he'd fall for water, 'cause a +tropical bird'll go where the sound of water is every time. I guess it's +because they have so many showers down there, or something. Then once I +heard that it's best to turn on the faucet when you're teaching a parrot +to talk. It's the sound of water. Did you get any water on you?" he +asked, suddenly turning to the child.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span></p> + +<p>There was no water on her clothing, but there was some in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I—I—think you're wonderful," she said. "I think you are just +wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"'Twasn't me," said Pee-wee, "it was the water. Gee," he added +confidentially, "I often said I hated water, and I do hate a rainy day. +And if you get any water in a carburetor—<i>goo-od-night</i>! But I got to +admit water's good for some things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I want you please to wait—just a few minutes—I want to go and +speak to my father," the girl said, as the boys started to move away. +They were the only ones left now. "Please wait just a minute."</p> + +<p>"We're on our way to Nyack," said Roy, suspecting her intention, "and +I'm afraid we've lost as much time as we dare. We've got to do a little +shopping there and our weather prophet here thinks we're going to have a +<i>real</i> tropical shower before long."</p> + +<p>"But won't you let my father give you each—something? You've been so +good and it's—oh—it's just <i>wonderful</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Pee-wee, you're the doctor," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"I got to do a good turn every day," said the "doctor," "because we're +scouts and that's the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> rule. If we took anything for it, why, then it +wouldn't be a good turn. It would spoil all the fun. We're going on a +long hike, up the Hudson to our camp. We don't want to go near railroad +trains—and things like that. These fellows are taking me with them; +that's a good turn, but if somebody paid 'em to do it, it wouldn't be a +good turn, would it? I'm thankful to you and your parrot that you gave +me the chance. Now I don't have to think of a good turn again till +tomorrow. Besides I just happened to know about parrots and water so +it's no credit to me."</p> + +<p>That was it—he just happened to know! It was one of the dozens of +things that he "just happened to know." How he came by the knowledge was +a mystery. But perhaps the best thing he knew was that a service is a +service and that you knock it in the head as soon as you take payment +for it.</p> + +<p>The girl watched them, as they jumped the hedge, laughing gaily at +Pee-wee's clumsiness and, waving their hats to her, took their belated +way along the road.</p> + +<p>It was not the most popular way of bringing down a bird, but there was +no blood on Pee-wee's hands, and it was a pretty good stunt at that!</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2><h3>THE SHELTER</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Pee-wee, you're a wonder," said Roy. "You're the only original Boy +Scout; how did you get next to that stunt? What do you think of him, +Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Some wrinkle," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Crinkums!" said Pee-wee. "I'm mighty glad I got him. If it hadn't +succeeded I'd have felt cheap, sure; but when you're dealing with a +girl, you always want to act as if you're sure of yourself. Do you know +why?"</p> + +<p>"Can't imagine," said Roy. "Break it to us gently."</p> + +<p>"Because girls are never sure of themselves and they'll never take much +stock in what you say unless you seem to be sure of yourself. That's one +thing I've noticed. I've made a study of girls, kind of—— And you're +more apt to succeed if there's a girl watching you—did you ever notice +that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span></p> + +<p>Roy laughed.</p> + +<p>"It's so," urged Pee-wee. "And there's another thing about girls, too; +they're repulsive."</p> + +<p>"What?" said Tom.</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>" said Roy.</p> + +<p>"They say the first thing that comes into their heads."</p> + +<p>"<i>Im</i>pulsive, you mean," laughed Roy.</p> + +<p>"Well, they're all right on good turns," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"They don't have any good turns in the Camp Fire Girls," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"A girl might do a good turn and you'd never know anything about it," +said Tom, significantly.</p> + +<p>"Cracky," said Pee-wee, "she was tickled to get that bird back."</p> + +<p>In a little while they were tramping along the main street of Nyack, +heading for the lordly Hudson. It was almost twilight, the shops were +shutting their doors, and as they came around the hill which brought +them face to face with the river, the first crimson glow of sunset fell +upon the rippling current. Across the wide expanse, which seemed the +wider for the little winding stream they had so lately followed, the +hills were already turning from green to gray and tiny<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> lights were +visible upon the rugged heights. A great white steamer with its light +already burning was plowing majestically upstream and the little open +craft at the shore rocked in the diminishing ripples which it sent +across the water, as though bowing in humble obeisance to it.</p> + +<p>"Gee, it's lonely, isn't it!" said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"Not getting homesick, are you, kiddo?"</p> + +<p>"No, but it seems kind of lonesome. I'm glad there's three of us. Oh, +jiminy, look at those hills."</p> + +<p>The scene was indeed such as to make the mightiest man feel +insignificant.</p> + +<p>The map showed a road which led to Haverstraw, and this the boys decided +to follow until they should find a convenient spot in which to bivouac +for the night. It followed the Hudson, sometimes running along the very +brink with the mighty highlands rising above it and sometimes running +between hills which shut the river from their view.</p> + +<p>"Hark," said Tom. "What did I tell you! Thunder!"</p> + +<p>A low, distant rumble sounded, and as they paused in the gathering +darkness, listening, a little fitful gust blew Pee-wee's hat off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span></p> + +<p>"We're going to get a good dose of it," said Tom. "I've been smelling it +for the last hour; look at those trees."</p> + +<p>The leaves were blowing this way and that.</p> + +<p>"We should worry," said Roy. "Didn't I tell you we might have to get our +feet wet? This is a risky bus——"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>They had walked not more than a quarter of a mile more when they came +upon a stretch of road which was very muddy, with a piece of lowland +bordering it. It was too dark to see clearly, but in the last remnant of +daylight the boys could just distinguish a small, peculiar looking +structure in the middle of this vast area.</p> + +<p>"That's a funny place to build a house," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Maybe it's a fisherman's shack," Tom suggested.</p> + +<p>Whatever it was, it was a most isolated and lonesome habitation, +standing in the centre of that desert flat, shut in by the precipitous +hills.</p> + +<p>"It would be a good place for a hermit," said Roy. "You don't suppose +anyone lives there, do you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span></p> + +<p>"Cracky, wouldn't you like to be a hermit! Do you know what I'd like to +have now——"</p> + +<p>"An umbrella," interrupted Tom.</p> + +<p>The remark, notwithstanding that it shocked Pee-wee's sense of fitness, +inasmuch as they were scouting and "roughing it," was not inappropriate, +for even as Tom spoke the patter of great drops was heard.</p> + +<p>"Maybe it's been raining here this afternoon," observed Tom, "and that's +what makes all this mud."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's certainly raining here now," said Roy. "Me for that shack!"</p> + +<p>The rain suddenly came down in torrents and the boys turned up their +collars and made a dash across the marshy land toward the shadowy +structure. Roy reached it first and, turning, called: "Hey, fellows, +it's a boat!"</p> + +<p>The others, drenched, but laughing, followed him, scrambling upon the +deck and over the combing into the cockpit of a dilapidated cabin +launch.</p> + +<p>"What do you know about that!" said Roy. "Strike a light and let's see +where we're at. I feel like a wet dish rag."</p> + +<p>Presently Pee-wee's flashlight was poking its bright shaft this way and +that as they looked curiously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> about them. They were in a neglected and +disheveled, but very cosy, little cabin with sleeping lockers on either +side and chintz curtains at the tiny portholes. A two-cylinder engine, +so rusted that the wheel wouldn't turn over and otherwise in a dubious +condition, was ineffectually covered by a piece of stiff and rotten oil +cloth, the floor was cluttered with junk, industrious spiders had woven +their webs all about and a frantic scurrying sound told of the hurried +departure of some little animal which had evidently made its home in the +forsaken hull.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but this is great!" enthused Pee-wee. "This is the kind of an +adventure you read about; <i>now</i> our adventures have really started."</p> + +<p>"It'll be more to the purpose if we can get our supper really started," +said Roy.</p> + +<p>"How do you suppose it got here?" Pee-wee asked.</p> + +<p>"That's easy," said Tom. "I didn't realize it before, but the tide must +come up over the road sometimes and flood all this land here. That's +what makes the road muddy. There must have been a good high tide some +time or other, and it brought the boat right up over the road and here +it is, marooned."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span></p> + +<p>"Maybe it was the same flood that did all the damage down our way," Roy +said. "Well, here goes; get the things out, Pee-wee, and we'll have some +eats. Gee, it's nice in here."</p> + +<p>It <i>was</i> nice. The rain pattered down on the low roof and beat against +the little ports; the boat swayed a little in the heavier gusts of wind +and all the delightful accompaniments of a life on the ocean wave were +present—except the peril.</p> + +<p>"You get out the cooking things," said Roy, "while I take a squint +around and see if I can find something to kindle a fire in."</p> + +<p>He did not have to go far. Sliding open the little hatch, he emerged +into the cockpit, where the wind and rain smote him mercilessly. The +storm had grown into a tempest and Roy wondered how it would be out on +the wide river on such a night. In the cockpit was nothing but the +shredded remnant of a sun awning and a couple of camp chairs, but a few +feet from the boat something on the mushy ground cast a faint glimmer, +and on going to it he found it to be a battered five-gallon gasoline +can, which he brought back in triumph. By this time Tom and Pee-wee had +the camp lamp burning and the supper things laid out. It was a very cosy +scene.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span></p> + +<p>"See if there's a Stillson wrench in that locker," said Roy.</p> + +<p>Among the rusted tools was a "Stillson," and with this Roy disconnected +the exhaust pipe from the engine. He next partly "jabbed" and partly cut +a hole in the gasoline can of about the circumference of the pipe. A +larger hole in the side of the can sufficed for a door and he squeezed +the end of the exhaust pipe into the hole he had made for it, and +presto! there was a very serviceable makeshift stove with the exhaust +system of the engine converted into a draught and chimney.</p> + +<p>"The new patent Silver Fox cooking stove," said Roy. "A scout is +resourceful. This beats trying to kindle a fire outside, a night like +this. Chuck that piece of wood over here."</p> + +<p>There was an old battery box knocking about and this Roy whittled into +shavings, while the others with their belt axes completed the ruin of +the awning stanchions by chopping them into pieces a few inches long.</p> + +<p>"Guess they weren't good for much," observed Tom.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Pee-wee, "I'd just like to live in this boat."</p> + +<p>It was no wonder he felt so. With the fire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> burning brightly in the old +can and sending its smoke out through the boat's exhaust, the smell of +the bacon cooking, the sight of their outer garments drying in the +cheery warmth, while the wind howled outside and the rain beat down upon +the low roof the situation was not half bad and an occasional lurch of +the old hull gave a peculiar charm to their odd refuge.</p> + +<p>"Could you dally with a rice cake, kiddo?" asked Roy, as he deftly +stirred up some rice and batter. "Sling me that egg powder, Tom, and +give me something to stir with—not that, you gump, that's the fever +thermometer!"</p> + +<p>"Here's a fountain pen," said Pee-wee; "will that do?"</p> + +<p>"This screw-driver will be better," said Roy. "Here, kiddo, make +yourself useful and keep turning that in the pan. You're a specialist on +good turns."</p> + +<p>Pee-wee stirred, while Tom attended to the fire, and Roy to the cooking. +And I might mention on the side that if you should happen to be marooned +in a disused boat on a blustering night, and are ingenious enough (as +Roy was) to contrive the cooking facilities, you cannot do better than +flop a few rice cakes, watching carefully that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> they don't burn. You can +flop them with a shoe horn if you've nothing better at hand.</p> + +<p>They spread their balloon silk tent in the cockpit, holding fast to the +corners until enough water had fallen into it to fill the coffee-pot, +and they had three such cups of coffee as you never fancied in your +fondest dreams.</p> + +<p>For dessert they had "Silver Fox Slump," an invention of Roy's made with +chocolate, honey and, I think, horse-radish. It has to be stirred +thoroughly. Pee-wee declared that it was such a <i>table d'hote</i> dinner as +he had never before tasted. He was always partial to the scout style of +cooking and he added, "You know how they have music at <i>table d'hote</i> +dinners. Well, this music's got it beat, that's one sure thing. Gee, +I'll hate to leave the boat, I sure will."</p> + +<p>The boisterous music gave very little prospect of ceasing, and after the +three had talked for an hour or so, they settled down for the night, two +on the lockers and one on the floor, with the wind still moaning and the +rain coming down in torrents.</p> + +<p>When they awoke in the morning the wind had died down somewhat, but it +still blew fitfully out of the east and the rain had settled down into +a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> steady drizzle. Tom ventured out into the cockpit and looked about +him. The hills across the river were gray in the mist and the wide +expanse of water was steel color. He could see now that there was +another road close under the precipitous cliffs and that the one which +divided this lowland from the river was almost awash. Through the mist +and drizzle along this higher road came a man. He left the road and +started to pick his way across the flat, hailing as he came. The three +boys awaited him in the cockpit.</p> + +<p>"Don't nobody leave that boat!" he called, "or I'll shoot."</p> + +<p>"Dearie me," said Roy. "He seems to be peeved. What are we up against, +anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Don't shoot, mister," called Tom. "You couldn't drag us out of here +with a team of horses."</p> + +<p>"Tell him we are Boy Scouts and fear naught," whispered Pee-wee. "Tell +him we scorn his—er—what d'you call it?"</p> + +<p>"Hey, mister," called Roy. "We are Boy Scouts and fear naught, and we +scorn your what-d'you-call it."</p> + +<p>"Haouw?" called the man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's that he's got on?" said Tom, "a merit badge?"</p> + +<p>"It's a cop's badge," whispered Pee-wee. "Oh, crinkums, we're pinched."</p> + +<p>The man approached, dripping and breathing heavily, and placed his hands +on the combing.</p> + +<p>"Anybody here 'sides you youngsters?" he demanded, at the same time +peering inside the cabin.</p> + +<p>"A few spiders," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Whatcher doin' here, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"We're waiting for the storm to hold up," said Roy; "we beat it from +that road when——"</p> + +<p>"We sought refuge," Pee-wee prompted him.</p> + +<p>"Any port in a storm, you know," Roy smiled. "Are we pinched?"</p> + +<p>The man did not vouchsafe an immediate answer to this vital query. +Instead he poked his head in, peered about and then said, "Don' know's +ye are, not fur's I'm concerned. I'd like to hev ye answer me one +question honest, though."</p> + +<p>"You'll have to answer one for us first," called Roy, who had +disappeared within the little cabin. "Do you take two lumps of sugar in +your coffee?"</p> + +<p>The man now condescended to smile, as Roy brought out a steaming cup and +handed it to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wall, ye've got all the comforts uv home, ain't ye?"</p> + +<p>"Give him a rice cake," whispered Pee-wee in Roy's ear. "He's all +right."</p> + +<p>"Won't you come in?" said Roy. "I don't know whose boat this is, but +you're welcome. I guess we didn't do any damage. We chopped up a couple +of broken stanchions, that's all."</p> + +<p>"I guess we'll let ye off without more'n ten year uv hard labor," said +the man, sipping his coffee. "But I'll give ye a tip. Get away from here +as soon's ye can,—hear? Old man Stanton owns this boat an' he's a bear. +He'd run ye in fer trespass and choppin' up them stanchions quick as a +gun. Ye come oft'n that outer road, ye say? Strangers here?"</p> + +<p>"I can see now that road is flooded," said Tom. "Guess it isn't used, is +it?"</p> + +<p>"This is all river land," said the man. "In extra high tides this here +land is flooded an' the only ones usin' that thar road is the fishes. +This rain keeps up another couple of days an' we get a full moon on top +o' that the old hulk'll float, by gol! Ye didn't see no men around here +last night now, did ye?"</p> + +<p>"Not a soul," said Roy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Cause there was a prisoner escaped up yonder last night an' when I see +the smoke comin' out o' yer flue contraption here I thought like enough +he hit this shelter."</p> + +<p>"Up yonder?" Tom queried.</p> + +<p>"You're strangers, hey?" the man repeated.</p> + +<p>"We're on a hike," said Tom. "We're on our way to Haverstraw and——"</p> + +<p>"Thence," prompted Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"<i>Thence</i> to Catskill Landing, and <i>thence</i> to Leeds and <i>thence</i> to +Black Lake," mocked Roy.</p> + +<p>"Well, thar's a big prison up yonder," said the man.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sing Sing?" Roy asked. "I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"Feller scaled the wall last night an' made off in a boat."</p> + +<p>The boys were silent. They had not realized how close they were to +Ossining, and the thought of the great prison whose name they had often +heard mentioned sobered them a little; the mere suggestion of one of its +inmates scaling its frowning wall on such a night and setting forth in +an open boat, perhaps lurking near their very shelter, cast a shadow +over them.</p> + +<p>"Are you—are you <i>sure</i> you didn't see a—a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> crouching shadow when you +went out and got that gasoline can last night?" Pee-wee stammered.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," said Roy, "but I didn't see one crouching shadow."</p> + +<p>"His boat might have upset in the storm," Tom suggested. "The wind even +shook this boat; it must have been pretty rough out on the river."</p> + +<p>"Like enough," said the man. "Des'pret characters'll take des'pret +chances."</p> + +<p>"What did he do?" Pee-wee asked, his imagination thoroughly aroused.</p> + +<p>"Dunno," said the man. "Burglary, like enough. Well now, you youngsters +have had yer shelter'n the wust o' the storm's over. It's goin' ter keep +right on steady like this till after full moon, an' the ole shebang'll +be floppin' roun' the marsh like enough on full moon tide. My advice to +you is to git along. Not that you done no damage or what <i>I'd</i> call +damage—but it won't do no good fer yer to run amuck o' Ole Man Stanton. +'Cause he's a reg'lar grizzly, as the feller says."</p> + +<p>The boys were silent a moment. Perhaps the thought of that desperate +convict stealing forth amid the wind and rain still gripped them; but it +began to dawn upon them also that they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> been trespassing and that +they had taken great liberties with this ramshackle boat.</p> + +<p>That the owner could object to their use of it seemed preposterous. That +he could take advantage of the technical "damage" done was quite +unsupposable. But no one knows better than a boy how many "grouchy" men +there are in the world, and these very boys had once been ordered out of +John Temple's lot with threat and menace.</p> + +<p>"Does <i>everybody</i> call him 'Old Man' Stanton?" Pee-wee asked. "Because +if they do that's pretty bad. Whenever somebody is known as 'Old Man' it +sounds pretty bad for him. They used to say 'Old Man Temple'—he's a man +we know that owns a lot of railroads and things; of course, he's +reformed now—he's a magnet——"</p> + +<p>"Magnate," corrected Roy.</p> + +<p>"But they <i>used</i> to call him 'Old Man Temple'—everybody did. And it's a +sure sign—you can always tell," Pee-wee concluded.</p> + +<p>"Wall, they call <i>me</i> 'Ole Man Flint,'" said the visitor, "so I +guess——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course," said Pee-wee, hastily, "I don't say it's always so, and +besides you're a—a——"</p> + +<p>"Sheriff," Mr. Flint volunteered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span></p> + +<p>"So you got to be kind of strict—and—and grouchy—like."</p> + +<p>The sheriff handed his empty cup to Roy and smiled good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"Where does Old Man Stanton live?" asked Tom, who had been silent while +the others were talking.</p> + +<p>"'Long the Nyack road, but he has his office in Nyack—he's a lawyer," +said the visitor, as he drew his rubber hat down over his ears.</p> + +<p>"Can we get back to Nyack by that other road?"</p> + +<p>"Whatcher goin' to do?"</p> + +<p>"We'll have to go and see Old Man Stanton," Tom said, "then if we don't +get pinched we'll start north."</p> + +<p>Mr. Flint looked at him in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't say we've done any damage," said Tom in his stolid way, "and +I believe in that about any port in a storm. But if he's the kind of a +man who would think different, then we've got to go and tell him, that's +all. We can pay him for the stanchions we chopped up."</p> + +<p>"Wall, you're a crazy youngster, that's all, but if yer sot on huntin' +fer trouble, yer got only yerself to blame. Ye'll go before a justice uv +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> peace, the whole three uv year, and be fined ten dollars apiece, +likely as not, an' I don't believe ye've got twenty-five dollars between +the lot uv yer."</p> + +<p>"Right you are," said Roy. "We are poor but honest, and we spurn—don't +we, Pee-wee?"</p> + +<p>"Sure we do," agreed Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"Poverty is no disgrace," said Roy dramatically.</p> + +<p>The man, though not overburdened with a sense of humor, could not help +smiling at Roy and he went away laughing, but scarcely crediting their +purpose to venture into the den of "Old Man Stanton." "They're a queer +lot," he said to himself.</p> + +<p>Within a few minutes the boys had gathered up their belongings, repacked +their duffel bags and were picking their way across the marsh toward the +drier road.</p> + +<p>"We're likely to land in jail," said Pee-wee, mildly protesting.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a question of whether we land in jail or not," said Tom, +stolidly; "it's just a question of what we ought to do."</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> should worry," said Roy.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2><h3>THE "GOOD TURN"</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was a draggled and exceedingly dubious-looking trio that made their +way up the main street of Nyack. They had no difficulty in finding the +office of "Old Man Stanton," which bore a conspicuous sign:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center" class="smcap"> +Wilmouth Stanton<br /> +Counsellor at Law<br /> +</p> + +<p>"He'd—he'd have to get out a warrant for us first, wouldn't he?" +Pee-wee asked, apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"That'll be easy," said Roy. "If all goes well, I don't see why we +shouldn't be in Sing Sing by three o'clock."</p> + +<p>"We're big fools to do this," said Pee-wee. "A scout is supposed to +be—cautious." But he followed the others up the stairs and stepped +bravely in when Tom opened the door.</p> + +<p>They found themselves in the lion's den with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> the lion in close +proximity glaring upon them. He sat at a desk opening mail and looked +frowningly at them over his spectacles. He was thin and wiry, his gray +hair was rumpled in a way which suggested perpetual perplexity or +annoyance, and his general aspect could not be said to be either +conciliatory or inviting.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," he said, crisply.</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. Stanton?" Tom asked. "We are Scouts," he added, as the +gentleman nodded perfunctorily, "and we came from Bridgeboro. We're on +our way to camp. Last night we got caught in the rain and we ran——"</p> + +<p>"Took refuge," whispered Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"For that old boat on the marsh. This morning we heard it was yours, so +we came to tell you that we camped in it last night. We made a fire in a +can, but I don't think we did any harm, except we chopped up a couple of +old stanchions. We thought they were no good, but, of course, we +shouldn't have taken them without leave."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stanton stared at him with an ominous frown. "Built a fire in a +can?" said he. "Do you mean in the boat?"</p> + +<p>"We used the exhaust for a draught," said Roy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh—and what brings you here?"</p> + +<p>"To tell you," said Tom, doggedly. "A man came and told us you owned the +boat. He said you might have us arrested, so we came to let you know +about what we did."</p> + +<p>"We didn't come because we wanted to be arrested," put in Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mr. Stanton, with the faintest suggestion of a smile. +"Isn't it something new," he added, "running into the jaws of death? +Boys generally run the other way and don't go hunting for trouble."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you how it is," said Pee-wee, making the conversation +his own, somewhat to Roy's amusement. "Of course, a scout has got to be +cautious—but he's got to be fearless too. I was kind of scared when I +heard you were a lawyer——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Stanton's grim visage relaxed into an unwilling, but unmistakable, +smile.</p> + +<p>"And another thing I heard scared me, but——"</p> + +<p>Tom, seeing where Pee-wee was drifting, tried to stop him, but Roy, +knowing that Pee-wee always managed to land on top, and seeing the smile +on Mr. Stanton's forbidding countenance,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> encouraged him to go on, and +presently the mascot of the Silver Foxes was holding the floor.</p> + +<p>"A scout has to deduce—that's one of the things we learn, and if you +heard somebody called 'Old Man Something-or-other,' why, you'd deduce +something from it, wouldn't you? And you'd be kind of scared-like. But +even if you deduce that a man is going to be mad and gruff, kind of, +even still you got to remember that you're a scout and if you damaged +his property you got to go and tell him, anyway. You got to go and tell +him even if you go to jail. Don't you see? Maybe you don't know much +about the scouts——"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. Stanton, "I'm afraid I don't. But I'm glad to know that I +am honored by a nickname—even so dubious a one. Do you think you were +correct in your deductions?" he added.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know," began Pee-wee. "I can see—well, anyway there's +another good thing about a scout—he's got to admit it if he's wrong."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stanton laughed outright. It was a rusty sort of laugh, for he did +not laugh often—but he laughed.</p> + +<p>"The only things I know about Boy Scouts," said he, "I have learned in +the last twenty-four hours. You tell me that they can convert an +exhaust<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> pipe into a stove flue, and I have learned they can bring a +bird down out of a tree without so much as a bullet or a stone (I have +to believe what my little daughter tells me), and that they take the +road where they think trouble awaits them on account of a +principle—that they walk up to the cannon's mouth, as it were—I am a +very busy man and no doubt a very hard and disagreeable one, but I can +afford to know a little more about these scouts, I believe."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you all about them," said Pee-wee, sociably. "Jiminys, I +never dreamed you were that girl's father."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stanton swung around in his chair and looked at him sharply. "Who +are you boys?"</p> + +<p>"We came from Bridgeboro in New Jersey," spoke up Roy, "and we're going +up the river roads as far as Catskill Landing. Then we're going to hit +inland for our summer camp."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stanton was silent for a few moments, looking keenly at them while +they stood in some suspense.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, soberly, "I see but one way out of the difficulty. The +stanchions you destroyed were a part of the boat. The boat is of no use +to me without them. I suggest, therefore, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> you take the boat along +with you. It belonged to my son and it has been where it now lies ever +since the storm in which his life was lost. I have not seen the inside +of it since—I do not want to see the inside of it," he added brusquely, +moving a paperweight about on his desk. "It is only three years old," he +went on after a moment's uncomfortable pause, "and like some people it +is not as bad as it looks."</p> + +<p>The boys winced a little at this thrust. Mr. Stanton was silent for a +few moments and Pee-wee was tempted to ask him something about his son, +but did not quite dare to venture.</p> + +<p>"I think the boat can very easily be removed to the river with a little +of the ingenuity which you scouts seem to have, and you may continue +your journey in her, if you care to. You may consider it a—a present +from my daughter, whom you made so happy yesterday."</p> + +<p>For a moment the boys hardly realized the meaning of his words. Then Tom +spoke.</p> + +<p>"We have a rule, Mr. Stanton, that a scout cannot accept anything for a +service. If he does, it spoils it all. It's great, your offering us the +boat and it seems silly not to take it, but——"</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mr. Stanton, proceeding to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> open his letters, "if you +prefer to go to jail for destroying my stanchions, very well. Remember +you are dealing with a lawyer." Roy fancied he was chuckling a little +inwardly.</p> + +<p>"That's right," said Pee-wee in Tom's ear. "There's no use trying to get +the best of a lawyer—a scout ought to be—to be modest; we better take +it, Tom."</p> + +<p>"There's a difference between payment for a service and a token of +gratitude," said Mr. Stanton, looking at Tom. "But we will waive all +that. I cannot allow the Boy Scouts to be laying down the law for me. By +your own confession you have destroyed my stanchions and as a citizen it +is my duty to take action. But if I were to give you a paper dated +yesterday, assigning the boat to you, then it would appear that you had +simply trespassed and burglariously entered your own property and +destroyed your own stanchions and I would not have a leg to stand upon. +My advice to you as a lawyer is to accept such a transfer of title and +avoid trouble."</p> + +<p>He began ostentatiously to read one of his letters.</p> + +<p>"He's right, Tom," whispered Pee-wee, "It's what you call a teckinality. +Gee, we better take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> the boat. There's no use trying to beat a lawyer. +He's got the right on his side."</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Tom, doubtfully. He, too, fancied that Mr. Stanton +was laughing inwardly, but he was not good at repartee and the lawyer +was too much for him. It was Roy who took the situation in hand.</p> + +<p>"It seems ungrateful, Mr. Stanton, even to talk about whether we'll take +such a peach of a gift. Tom here is always thinking about the law—our +law—and Pee-wee—we call this kid Pee-wee—he's our specialist on doing +good turns. They're both cranks in different ways. I know there's a +difference, as you say, between just a present and a reward. And it +seems silly to say thank you for such a present, just as if it was a +penknife or something like that. But we do thank you and we'll take the +boat. I just happened to think of a good name for it while you were +talking. It was the good turn Pee-wee did yesterday—about the bird, I +mean—that made you offer it to us and your giving it to us is a good +turn besides, so I guess we'll call it the 'Good Turn.'"</p> + +<p>"You might call it the 'Teckinality,'" suggested Mr. Stanton with a +glance at Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"All right," he added, "I'll send one of my men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> down later in the day +to see about getting her in the water. I've an idea a block and falls +will do the trick. But you'd better caulk her up with lampwick and give +her a coat of paint in the meantime."</p> + +<p>He went to the door with them and as they turned at the foot of the +stairs and called back another "Thank you," Roy noticed something in his +face which had not been there before.</p> + +<p>"I bet he's thinking of his son," said he.</p> + +<p>"Wonder how he died," said Tom.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2><h3>BON VOYAGE!</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Now, you see," said Pee-wee, "how a good turn can evolute."</p> + +<p>"Can what?" said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Evolute."</p> + +<p>"It could neverlute with me," observed Roy. "Gee, but we've fallen in +soft! You could have knocked me down with a toothpick. I wonder what our +sleuth friend, the sheriff, will say."</p> + +<p>The sheriff said very little; he was too astonished to say much. So were +most of the people of the town. When they heard that "Old Man Stanton" +had given Harry Stanton's boat to some strange boys from out of town, +they said that the loss of his son must have affected his mind. The boys +of the neighborhood, incredulous, went out on the marsh the next day +when the rain held up, and stood about watching the three strangers at +work and marvelling at "Old Man Stanton's" extraordinary generosity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aw, he handed 'em a lemon!" commented the wiseacre. "That boat'll never +run—it won't even float!"</p> + +<p>But Harry Stanton's cruising launch was no lemon. It proved to be +staunch and solid. There wasn't a rotten plank in her. Her sorry +appearance was merely the superficial shabbiness which comes from disuse +and this the boys had neither the time nor the money to remedy; but the +hull and the engine were good.</p> + +<p>To the latter Roy devoted himself, for he knew something of gas engines +by reason of the two automobiles at his own house. They made a list of +the things they needed, took another hike into Nyack and came back laden +with material and provisions. Roy poured a half-gallon or so of kerosene +into each of the two cylinders and left it over night. The next morning +when he drained it off the wheel turned over easily enough. A set of +eight dry cells, some new wiring, a couple of new plugs, a little +session with a pitted coil, a little more gas, a little less air, a +little more gas, and finally the welcome first explosion, so dear to the +heart of the motor-boatist, rewarded Roy's efforts of half a day.</p> + +<p>"Stop it! Stop it!" shrieked Pee-wee from outside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> "I hung the paint +can on the propeller! I'm getting a green shower bath!"</p> + +<p>He poked his head over the combing, his face, arms and clothing +bespattered with copper paint.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, kiddo," laughed Roy, "It's all in the game. She runs like a +dream. Step a little closer, ladies and gentlemen, and view the leopard +boy. Pee-wee, you're a sight! For goodness' sakes, get some sandpaper!"</p> + +<p>The two days of working on the <i>Good Turn</i> were two days of fun. It was +not necessary to caulk her lower seams for the dampness of the marsh had +kept them tight, and the seams above were easy. They did not bother +about following the water-line and painting her free-board white; a coat +of copper paint over the whole hull sufficed. They painted the sheathing +of the cockpit a common-sense brown, "neat but not gaudy," as Roy said. +The deck received a coat of an unknown color which their friend, the +sheriff, brought them saying he had used it on his chicken-coop. The +engine they did in aluminum paint, the fly-wheel in a gaudy red, and +then they mixed what was left of all the paints.</p> + +<p>"I bet we get a kind of blackish white," said Pee-wee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></p> + +<p>"I bet it's green," said Tom.</p> + +<p>But it turned out to be a weak silvery gray and with this they painted +the cabin, or rather half the cabin, for their paint gave out.</p> + +<p>They sat until long after midnight in the little cabin after their first +day's work, but were up and at it again bright and early in the morning, +for Mr. Stanton's men were coming with the block and falls at high tide +in the evening to haul the <i>Good Turn</i> back into her watery home.</p> + +<p>Pee-wee spent a good part of the day throwing out superfluous junk and +tidying up the little cabin, while Tom and Roy repaired the rubbing-rail +where it had broken loose and attended to other slight repairs on the +outside.</p> + +<p>The dying sunlight was beginning to flicker on the river and the three +were finishing their supper in the cabin when Tom, looking through the +porthole, called, "Oh, here comes the truck and an automobile just in +front of it!"</p> + +<p>Sure enough, there on the road was the truck with its great coil of +hempen rope and its big pulleys, accompanied by two men in overalls. +Pee-wee could not repress his exuberance as the trio clambered up on the +cabin roof and waved to the little cavalcade.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span></p> + +<p>"In an hour more she'll be in the water," he shouted, "and we'll——"</p> + +<p>"We'll anchor till daylight," concluded Roy.</p> + +<p>In another moment a young girl, laden with bundles, had left the +automobile and was picking her way across the marsh. It proved to be the +owner of the fugitive bird.</p> + +<p>"I've brought you all the things that belong to the boat," she said, +"and I'm going to stay and see it launched. My father was coming too but +he had a meeting or something or other. Isn't it perfectly glorious how +you chopped up the stanchions——"</p> + +<p>"Great," said Roy. "It shows the good that comes out of breaking the +law. If we hadn't chopped up the stanchions——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, crinkums, look at this!" interrupted Pee-wee. He was handling the +colored bow lamp.</p> + +<p>"And here's the compass, and here's the whistle, and here's the +fog-bell," said the girl, unloading her burden with a sigh of relief. +"And here's the flag for the stern and here—look—I made this all by +myself and sat up till eleven o'clock to do it—see!"</p> + +<p>She unfolded a cheese-cloth pennant with the name <i>Good Turn</i> sewed upon +it. "You have to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> fly this at the bow in memory of your getting my bird +for me," she said.</p> + +<p>"We'll fly it at the bow in memory of what you and your father have done +for <i>us</i>," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"And here's some fruit, and here's some salmon, and here's some pickled +something or other—I got them all out of the pantry and they weigh a +ton!"</p> + +<p>There was no time for talking if the boat was to be got to the river +before dark, and the boys fell to with the men while the girl looked +about the cabin with exclamations of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it perfectly lovely," she called to Tom, who was outside +encircling the hull with a double line of heavy rope, under the men's +direction. "I never saw anything so cute and wasn't it a fine idea +giving it to you!"</p> + +<p>"Bully," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"It was just going to ruin here," she said, "and it was a shame."</p> + +<p>It was a busy scene that followed and the boys had a glimpse of the +wonderful power of the block and falls. To an enormous tree on the +roadside a gigantic three-wheel pulley was fastened by means of a metal +band around the lower part of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> the trunk. Several other pulleys between +this and the boat multiplied the hauling power to such a degree that one +person pulling on the loose end which was left after the rope had been +passed back and forth many times through the several pulleys, could +actually move the boat. The hull was completely encircled, the rope +running along the sides and around the stern with another rope below +near the keel so that the least amount of strain would be put upon her.</p> + +<p>They hitched the horses to the rope's end and as the beasts plunged +through the yielding marsh the boat came reeling and lurching toward the +road. Here they laid planks and rollers and jacked her across. This was +not so much a matter of brute strength as of skill. The two men with the +aid of the Stanton chauffeur were able, with props of the right length, +to keep the <i>Good Turn</i> on an even keel, while the boys removed and +replaced the rollers. It was interesting to see how the bulky hull could +be moved several hundred feet, guided and urged across a road and +retarded upon the down grade to the river by two or three men who knew +just how to do it.</p> + +<p>Cautiously the rollers were retarded with obstructing sticks, as the +men, balancing the hull<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> upright, let her slowly down the slope into the +water. Pee-wee stood upon the road holding the rope's end and a thrill +went through him when he felt the rocking and bobbing of the boat as it +regained its wonted home, and at last floated freely in the water.</p> + +<p>"Hang on to that, youngster," called one of the men. "She's where she +can do as she likes now."</p> + +<p>As the <i>Good Turn</i>, free at last from prosaic rollers and plank tracks, +rolled easily in the swell, pulling gently upon the rope which the +excited Pee-wee held, it seemed that she must be as pleased as her new +owners were, at finding herself once more in her natural home. How +graceful and beautiful she looked now, in the dying light! There is +nothing so clumsy looking as a boat on shore. To one who has seen a +craft "laid up," it is hardly recognizable when launched.</p> + +<p>"Well, there ye are," said one of the men, "an' 'tain't dark yet +neither. You can move 'er by pullin' one finger now, hey? She looks +mighty nat'ral, don't she, Bill? Remember when we trucked her up from +the freight station and dumped her in three year ago? She was the +<i>Nymph</i> then. Gol, how happy that kid was—you remember, Bill? I'll tell +<i>you</i> kids now what I told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> him then—told him right in front of his +father; I says, 'Harry, you remember she's human and treat her as such,' +that's what I says ter him. <i>You</i> remember, Bill."</p> + +<p>Roy noticed that the girl had strolled away and was standing in the +gathering darkness a few yards distant, gazing at the boat. The clumsy +looking hull, in which the boys had taken refuge, seemed trim and +graceful now, and Roy was reminded of the fairy story of the ugly +duckling, who was really a swan, but whose wondrous beauty was +unappreciated until it found itself among its own kindred.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, that's wot I told him, 'cause I've lived on the river here +all my life, ain't I, Bill, an' I know. Yer don't give an automobile no +name, an' yer don't give an airyplane no name, an' yer don't give a +motorcycle nor a bicycle no name, but yer give a boat a name 'cause +she's human. She'll be cranky and stubborn an' then she'll be soft and +amiable as pie—that's 'cause she's human. An' that's why a man'll let a +old boat stan' an' rot ruther'n sell it. 'Cause it's human and it kinder +gets him. You treat her as such, you boys."</p> + +<p>"How did Harry Stanton die?" Tom asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span></p> + +<p>The man, with a significant motion of his finger toward the lone figure +of the girl, drew nearer and the boys gathered about him.</p> + +<p>"The old gent didn' tell ye, hey?"</p> + +<p>"Not a word."</p> + +<p>"Hmmm—well, Harry was summat older'n you boys, he was gettin' to be a +reg'lar young man. Trouble with him was he didn' know what he wanted. +First off, he must have a horse, 'n' then he must have a boat, so th' +old man, he got him this boat. He's crusty, but he's all to the good, +th' old man is."</p> + +<p>"You bet your life he is," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"Well, Harry an' Benty Willis—you remember Benty, Bill—him an' Benty +Willis was out in the <i>Nymph</i>—that's this here very boat. They had 'er +anchored up a ways here, right off Cerry's Hill, an' they was out in the +skiff floppin' 'round—some said fishin'."</p> + +<p>"They was bobbin' fer eels, that's wot they was doin'," said the other +man.</p> + +<p>"Well, wotever they was doin' it was night 'n' thar was a storm. An' +that's every bloomin' thing me or you or anybody else'll ever know about +it. The next day Croby Risbeck up here was out fer his nets an' he come +on the skiff swamped, over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> there off'n that point. An' near it was +Benty Willis."</p> + +<p>"Drowned?" asked Roy.</p> + +<p>"Drownded. He must o' tried to keep afloat by clingin' t' the skiff, but +she was down to her gunnel an' wouldn' keep a cat afloat. He might o' +kep' his head out o' water a spell clingin' to it. All I know is he was +drownded when he was found. Wotever become o' that skiff, Bill?"</p> + +<p>"And what about Mr. Stanton's son?" Roy asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, they got his hat an' his coat that he must a' thrown off an' +that's all. Th' old man 'ud never look at the launch again. He had her +brought over'n' tied up right about here, an' there she stood till the +floods carried her up over this here road and sot her down in the +marsh."</p> + +<p>"Did the skiff belong with her?" Roy asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure enough; always taggin' on behind."</p> + +<p>"How did they think it happened?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Wall, fer one thing, it was a rough night an' they may uv jest got +swamped. But agin, it's a fact that Harry knew how to swim; he was a +reg'lar water-rat. Now, what I think is this. Th' only thing 't 'd +prevent that lad gettin' ashore'd be his gettin' killed—not drowned, +but <i>killed</i>."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't mean murdered?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, if they was swamped by the big night boat, an' he got mixed up +with the paddle wheel, I don't know if ye'd call it murder, but it'd be +killin', sure enough. Leastways, they never got him, an' it's my belief +he was chopped up. Take a tip from me, you boys, an' look out fer the +night boat, 'cause the night boat ain't a-goin' t' look out fer you."</p> + +<p>The girl, strolling back, put an end to their talk, but it was clear +that she, too, must have been thinking of that fatal night, for her eyes +were red and she seemed less vivacious.</p> + +<p>"You must be careful," said she, "there are a good many accidents on the +river. My father told me to tell you you'd better not do much traveling +at night. I want to see you on board, and then I must go home," she +added.</p> + +<p>She held out her hand and Roy, who was in this instance best suited to +speak for the three, grasped it.</p> + +<p>"There's no use trying to thank you and your father," he said. "If you'd +given us some little thing we could thank you, but it seems silly to say +just the same thing when we have a thing like this given to us, and yet +it seems worse for us to go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> away without saying anything. I guess you +know what I mean."</p> + +<p>"You must promise to be careful—can you all swim?"</p> + +<p>"We are scouts," laughed Roy.</p> + +<p>"And that means you can do anything, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"No, not that," Roy answered, "but we do want to tell you how much we +thank you—you and your father."</p> + +<p>"Especially you," put in Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>She smiled, a pretty wistful smile, and her eyes glistened. "You did +more for me," she said, "you got my bird back. I care more for that bird +than I could ever care for any boat. My brother brought it to me from +Costa Rica."</p> + +<p>She stepped back to the auto. The chauffeur was already in his place, +and the two men were coiling up their ropes and piling the heavy planks +and rollers on board the truck. The freshly painted boat was growing dim +in the gathering darkness and the lordly hills across the river were +paling into gray again. As the little group paused, a deep, melodious +whistle re-echoed from the towering heights and the great night boat +came into view, her lights aloft, plowing up midstream. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> <i>Good Turn</i> +bobbed humbly like a good subject as the mighty white giant passed. The +girl watched the big steamer wistfully and for a moment no one spoke.</p> + +<p>"Was your brother—fond of traveling?" Roy ventured.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was crazy for it," she answered, "and you can't bring <i>him</i> +back as you brought my bird back—you <i>can't</i> do everything after all."</p> + +<p>It was Tom Slade who spoke now. "We couldn't do any more than try," said +he. He spoke in that dull, heavy manner, and it annoyed Roy, for it +seemed as if he were making fun of the girl's bereavement.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it seemed the same to her, for she turned the subject at once. +"I'm going to sit here until you are in the boat," she said.</p> + +<p>They pulled the <i>Good Turn</i> as near the shore as they could bring her +without grounding for the tide was running out, and Pee-wee held her +with the rope while the others went aboard over a plank laid from the +shore to the deck. Then Pee-wee followed, hurrying, for there was +nothing to hold her now.</p> + +<p>They clambered up on the cabin, Roy waving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> the naval flag, and Pee-wee +the name pennant, while Tom cast the anchor, for already the <i>Good Turn</i> +was drifting.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!" they cried.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!" she called back, waving her handkerchief as the auto +started, "and good luck to you!"</p> + +<p>"We'll try to do a good turn some day to make up," shouted Pee-wee.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2><h3>THE MYSTERY</h3> +</div> + +<p>"What I don't understand," said Tom, in his dull way, "is how if that +fellow was drowned or killed that night, he managed to get back to this +boat again—that's what gets me."</p> + +<p>"What?" said Roy.</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" chimed in Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>They were sitting in the little cabin of the <i>Good Turn</i> eating rice +cakes, about an hour after the launching. The boat rocked gently at its +moorings, the stars glittered in the wide expanse of water, the tiny +lights in the neighboring village kept them cheery company as they +chatted there in the lonesome night with the hills frowning down upon +them. It was very quiet and this, no less than the joyous sense of +possession of this cosy home, kept them up, notwithstanding their +strenuous two days of labor.</p> + +<p>"Just what I said," said Tom. "See that board<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> you fixed the oil stove +on? I believe that was part of that skiff. You can see the letters +N-Y-M-P-H even under the paint. That strip was in the boat all the time. +How did it get here? That's what <i>I'd</i> like to know."</p> + +<p>Roy laid down his "flopper" and examined the board carefully, the +excited Pee-wee joining him. It was evidently the upper strip of the +side planking from a rowboat and at one end, under the diluted paint +which they had here used, could be dimly traced the former name of the +launch.</p> + +<p>"What-do-you-know-about-that?" ejaculated Roy.</p> + +<p>"It's a regular mystery," said Pee-wee; "that's one thing I like, a +mystery."</p> + +<p>"If that's a part of this boat's skiff," said Tom, "then it proves two +things. It proves that the boat was damaged—no fellow could pull a +plank from it like that; and it proves that that fellow came back to the +launch. It proves that he was injured, too. That man said he could swim. +Then why should he bring this board back with him unless it was to help +him keep afloat?"</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't need to drag it aboard," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Now you spoil it all," put in Pee-wee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about that," said Tom, "but that board didn't +drift back and climb in by itself. It must have been here all the time. +I suppose the other fellow—the one they found drowned—<i>might</i> have got +it here, some way," he added.</p> + +<p>"Not likely," said Roy. "If he'd managed to get back to the launch with +the board, he wouldn't have jumped overboard again just to get drowned. +He'd have managed to stay aboard."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a few minutes while Roy drummed on the plank with +his fingers and Pee-wee could hardly repress his excitement at the +thought that they were on the track of a real adventure. Tom Slade had +"gone and done it again." He was always surprising them by his stolid +announcement of some discovery which opened up delectable possibilities. +And smile as he would (especially in view of Pee-wee's exuberance), Roy +could not but see that here was something of very grave significance.</p> + +<p>"That's what I meant," drawled Tom, "when I told her that we could +<i>try</i>—to find her brother."</p> + +<p>This was a knockout blow.</p> + +<p>"This trip of ours is going to be just like a book," prophesied Pee-wee, +excitedly; "there's a—there's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> a—long lost brother, and—and—a deep +mystery!"</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Roy. "We'll have to change our names; I'll be Roy Rescue, +you be Pee-wee Pinkerton, the boy sleuth, and Tom'll be Tom Trustful. +What d'you say, Tom?"</p> + +<p>Tom made no answer and for all Roy's joking, he was deeply interested. +Like most important clues, the discovery was but a little thing, yet it +could not be accounted for except on the theory that Harry Stanton had +somehow gotten back to the launch after the accident, whatever the +accident was. It meant just that—nothing less and nothing more; though, +indeed, it did mean more to Pee-wee and as he slept that night, in the +gently rocking boat, he dreamed that he had vowed a solemn vow to Mr. +Stanton's daughter to "find her brother or perish in the attempt." He +carried a brace of pistols, and sailing forth with his trusty chums, he +landed in the island of Madagascar, to which Harry Stanton had been +carried, bound hand and foot, in an aeroplane. The three, undaunted, +then built a Zeppelin and sailed up to the summit of a dizzy crag where +they rescued the kidnapped youth and on reaching home, Mr. Stanton gave +them a sea-going yacht and a million dollars<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> each for pocket money. +When he awoke from this thrilling experience he found that the <i>Good +Turn</i> was chugging leisurely up the river in the broad daylight.</p> + +<p>The boat behaved very well, indeed. She leaked a little from the strain +of launching, but the engine pumped the water out faster than it came +in. All day long they lolled in the cockpit or on the cabin roof, taking +turns at the steering. Roy, who best understood gas engines, attended to +the motor, but it needed very little attention except that it missed on +high speed, so he humored it and they ambled along at "sumpty-sump miles +an hour," as Roy said, "but what care we," he added, "as long as she +goes." They anchored for several hours in the middle of the day and +fished, and had a mess of fresh perch for luncheon.</p> + +<p>Naturally, the topic of chief interest was the possibility that Harry +Stanton was living, but the clue which appeared to indicate that much +suggested nothing further, and the question of why he did not return +home, if he were indeed alive was a puzzling one.</p> + +<p>"His sister said he had been to Costa Rica, and was fond of traveling," +suggested Tom. "Maybe his parents objected to his going away from home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> +so he went this way—as long as the chance came to him—and let them +think he was drowned."</p> + +<p>Roy, sitting on the cabin roof with his knees drawn up, shook his head. +"Or maybe he left the boat again and tried to swim to shore to go home, +and didn't make it," he added.</p> + +<p>"That's possible," said Tom, "but then they'd probably have found his +body."</p> + +<p>"We aren't sure he's alive," Roy said thoughtfully, "but it means a +whole lot not to be sure that he's dead."</p> + +<p>"Maybe he was made away with by someone who wanted the boat," said +Pee-wee. "Maybe a convict from the prison killed him—you never can +tell. Jiminys, it's a mystery, sure."</p> + +<p>"You bet it is," said Roy. "The plot grows thicker. If Sir Guy Weatherby +were only here, or Detective Darewell—or some of those story-book ginks +they——"</p> + +<p>"They probably wouldn't have noticed the plank from the skiff," +suggested Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>Roy laughed and then fell to thinking. "Gee, it would be great if we +could find him!" he said.</p> + +<p>And there the puzzling matter ended, for the time being; but the <i>Good +Turn</i> took on a new interest because of the mystery with which it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> +associated and Pee-wee was continually edifying his companions with +startling and often grewsome theories as to the fate or present +whereabouts of Harry Stanton, until—until that thing happened which +turned all their thoughts from this puzzle and proved that bad turns as +well as good ones have the boomerang quality of returning upon their +author.</p> + +<p>It was the third afternoon of their cruise, or their "flop" as Roy +called it, for they had flopped along rather than cruised, and the <i>Good +Turn's</i> course would have indicated, as he remarked, a fit of the blind +staggers. They had paused to fish and to bathe; they had thrown together +a makeshift aquaplane from the pieces of an old float which they had +found, and had ridden gayly upon it; and their course had been so +leisurely and rambling that they had not yet reached Poughkeepsie, when +all of a sudden the engine stopped.</p> + +<p>Roy went through the usual course of procedure to start it up, but +without result. There was not a kick left in it. Silently he unscrewed +the cap on the deck, pushed a stick into the tank and lifted it +out—dry.</p> + +<p>"Boys," said he, solemnly, "there is not a drop of gasoline in the tank. +The engine must have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> used it all up. Probably it has been using it all +the time——"</p> + +<p>"You make me sick," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"I have known engines to do that before."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you to get gasoline in Newburgh?" demanded Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"You did, Sir Walter, and would that we had taken your advice; but I +trusted the engine and it has evidently been using the gasoline while +our backs were turned. <i>We</i> should worry! You don't suppose it would run +on witch hazel, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell——" began Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"If we could only reduce friend Walter to a liquid," said Roy. "I think +we could get started all right—he's so explosive."</p> + +<p>"Bright boy," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm a regular feller, I am," said Roy. "I knew that engine would +stop when there wasn't any more gasoline—I just felt it in my bones. +But what care we!</p> + +<p class='blockquot'> +'Oh, we are merry mountaineers,<br /> +And have no carking cares or fears—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Or gasoline.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Get out the oars, scouts!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span></p> + +<p>So they got out the oars and with the aid of these and a paddle +succeeded in making the shore where they tied up to the dilapidated +remnants of what had once been a float.</p> + +<p>"There must be a village in the neighborhood," said Tom, "or there +wouldn't be a float here."</p> + +<p>"Sherlock Holmes Slade is at it again," said Roy. It would have been a +pretty serious accident that Roy wouldn't have taken gayly. "Pee-wee, +you're appointed a committee to look after the boat while Tomasso and I +go in search of adventure—and gasoline. There must be a road up there +somewhere and if there's a road I dare say we can find a garage—maybe +even a village. Get things ready for supper, Pee-wee, and when we get +back I'll make a Silver Fox omelet for good luck."</p> + +<p>The spot where they had made a landing was at the foot of precipitous +hills between which and the shore ran the railroad tracks. Tom and Roy, +carrying a couple of gasoline cans, started along a road which led +around the lower reaches of one of these hills. As Pee-wee stood upon +the cabin watching them, the swinging cans were brightened by the rays +of the declining sun, and there was a chill in the air as the familiar +grayness fell upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> the heights, bringing to the boy that sense of +loneliness which he had felt before.</p> + +<p>He was of the merriest temperament, was Pee-wee, and, as he had often +said, not averse to "being jollied." But he was withal very sensitive +and during the trip he had more than once fancied that Tom and Roy had +fallen together to his own exclusion, and it awakened in him now and +then a feeling that he was the odd number of the party. He had tried to +ingratiate himself with them, though to be sure no particular effort was +needed to do that, yet sometimes he saw, or fancied he saw, little +things which made him feel that in important matters he was left out of +account. Roy would slap him on the shoulder and tousle his hair, but he +would ask Tom's advice—and take it. Perhaps Roy had allowed his +propensity for banter and jollying to run too far in his treatment of +Pee-wee. At all events, the younger boy had found himself a bit +chagrined at times that their discussions had not been wholly +three-handed. And now, as he watched the others hiking off through the +twilight, and heard their laughter, he recalled that it was usually <i>he</i> +who was appointed a "committee to stay and watch the boat."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span></p> + +<p>This is not a pleasant train of thought when you are standing alone in +the bleakness and sadness and growing chill of the dying day, with +tremendous nature piled all about you, and watching your two companions +as they disappear along a lonely road. But the mood was upon him and it +did not cheer him when Roy, turning and making a megaphone of his hands, +called, "Look out and don't fall into the gas tank, Pee-wee!"</p> + +<p>He <i>had</i> reminded them that they had better buy gasoline at Newburgh, +while they had the chance. Roy had answered jokingly telling Pee-wee +that he had better buy a soda in the city while <i>he</i> had the chance, and +Tom had added, "I guess the kid thinks we want to drink it."</p> + +<p>Well, there they were hiking it up over the hills now in quest of +gasoline and still joking him.</p> + +<p>If Pee-wee had remembered Roy's generous pleasure in the "parrot stunt," +he would have been much happier, but instead he allowed his imagination +to picture Tom and Roy in the neighboring village, having a couple of +sodas—perhaps taking a flyer at a movie show.</p> + +<p>He did as much as he could toward getting supper, and when it grew dark +and still they did not return, he clambered up on the cabin roof again<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> +and sat there gazing off into the night. But still they did not come.</p> + +<p>"Gee, I'm a Silver Fox, anyway," he said; "you'd think he'd want one of +his own patrol with him <i>sometimes</i>—gee!"</p> + +<p>He rose and went down into the cabin where the dollar watch which hung +on a nail told him that it was eight o'clock. Then it occurred to him +that it would serve them right if he got his own supper and was in his +bunk and asleep when they returned. It would be a sort of revenge on +them. He would show them, at least, that he could get along very well by +himself, and by way of doing so he would make some rice cakes. Roy was +not the only one who could make rice cakes. He, Pee-wee, could make them +if nobody stood by guying him.</p> + +<p>He had never wielded the flopper; that had been Roy's province; but he +could, all right, he told himself. So he dug into Roy's duffel bag for +the recipe book which was famous in the troop; which told the secrets of +the hunter's stew; which revealed the mystery of plum-duff and raisin +pop-overs in all their luscious details and which set you on the right +path for the renowned rice cakes.</p> + +<p>Between the leaves, right where the rice cake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> recipe revealed itself to +the hungry inquirer, was a folded paper which dropped out as Pee-wee +opened the book. For all he knew it contained the recipe so he held it +under the lantern and read:</p> + +<p class='letter'>"Dear Mary:</p> +<p class='letter'>"Since you butted in, Tom and I have decided that it would be +better for Pee-wee to go with <i>him</i>, and I'll stay home. Anyway, +that's what I've decided. So you'll get your wish all right and I +should worry.</p> +<p class='letter' style='text-align:right'>"Roy."</p> + +<p>Pee-wee read it twice over, then he laid it on the locker and sat down +and looked at it. Then he picked it up and read it over again. He did +not even realize that its discovery among Roy's things would indicate +that it had never been sent. Sent or not, it had been written.</p> + +<p>So this was the explanation of Roy's invitation that he accompany them +on the trip. Mary Temple had asked them to let him go. Yet, despite his +present mood, he could not believe that his own patrol leader, Roy +Blakeley, could have written this.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></p> + +<p>"I bet Tom Slade is—I bet he's the cause of it," he said.</p> + +<p>He recalled now how he had talked about the trip to Mary Temple and how +she had spoken rather mysteriously about the possibility of his going +along. So it was she who was his good friend; it was to her he owed the +invitation which had come to him with such a fine air of sincerity.</p> + +<p>"I always—crinkums, anyway girls always seem to like me, that's one +thing," he said. "And—and Roy did, too, before Tom Slade came into the +troop."</p> + +<p>It was odd how he turned against Tom, making him the scapegoat for Roy's +apparent selfishness and hypocrisy.</p> + +<p>"They just brought me along for charity, like," he said, "'cause she +told them to. Cracky, anyway, I didn't try to make her do that—I +didn't."</p> + +<p>This revelation in black and white of Roy's real feeling overcame him +and as he put the letter back in the book and the book back in the +duffel bag, he could scarcely keep his hand from trembling.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, I knew it all the time," he said. "I could see it."</p> + +<p>He had no appetite for rice cakes now. He took some cakes of chocolate +and a couple of hard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> biscuits and stuffed them in his pocket. Then he +went out into the cockpit and listened. There was no sound of voices or +footfalls, nothing but the myriad voices of nature, or frogs croaking +nearby, of a cheery cricket somewhere on shore, of the water lapping +against the broken old wharf as the wind drove it in shoreward.</p> + +<p>He returned to the cabin, tore a leaf from his scout notebook and wrote, +but he had to blink his eyes to keep back the tears.</p> + +<p class='letter'>"Dear Roy:<br /> +"I think you'll have more fun if you two go the rest of the way +alone. I always said two's a company, three's a crowd. You've heard +me say it and I ought to have had sense enough to remember it. But +anyway, I'm not mad and I like you just as much. I'll see you at +camp.</p> +<p class='letter' style='text-align: right; margin-bottom:1em;'>"<span class="smcap">WALTER HARRIS</span>."</p> +<p class='letter'>"P. S.—If I had to vote again for patrol leader I'd vote for you."</p> + +<p>He was particular not to mention Tom by name and to address his note to +Roy. He laid it in the frying pan on the stove (in which he had +intended<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> to make the rice cakes) and then, with his duffel bag over his +shoulder and his scout staff in hand, he stepped from the <i>Good Turn</i>, +listening cautiously for approaching footsteps, and finding the way +clear he stole away through the darkness.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2><h3>PEE-WEE'S ADVENTURE</h3> +</div> + +<p>A walk of a few yards or so brought him to the railroad track. He was no +longer the clown and mascot of the <i>Good Turn</i>; he was the scout, alert, +resourceful, bent on hiding his tracks.</p> + +<p>He did not know where he was going, more than that he was going to elude +pursuit and find a suitable spot in which to camp for the night. Matters +would take care of themselves in the daytime. He wanted to follow the +railroad tracks, for he knew that would keep him close to the river, but +he knew also that it had the disadvantage of being the very thing the +boys would suppose it most likely that he would do. For, feel as he +would toward them, he did not for a moment believe that they would let +him take himself off without searching for him. And he knew something of +Tom Slade's ability as a tracker.</p> + +<p>"They won't get any merit badges trailing <i>me</i>, though," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></p> + +<p>So he crossed the tracks and walked a couple of hundred feet or so up a +hill, grabbed the limb of a tree, swung up into its branches, let +himself down on the other side, and retraced his steps to the tracks and +began to walk the ties, northward. He was now thoroughly in the spirit +of the escapade and a feeling of independence seized him, a feeling that +every scout knows, that having undertaken a thing he must succeed in it.</p> + +<p>A walk of about ten minutes brought him to a high, roofed platform +beside the tracks, where one or two hogsheads were standing and several +cases. But there was no sign of life or habitation. It was evidently the +freight station for some town not far distant, for a couple of +old-fashioned box-cars stood on a siding, and Pee-wee contemplated them +with the joy of sudden inspiration.</p> + +<p>"Crinkums, that would be a dandy place to sleep," he thought, for it was +blowing up cold and he had but scant equipment.</p> + +<p>He went up to the nearest car and felt of the sliding door. It was the +least bit open, owing to its damaged condition, and by moving it a very +few inches more he could have slipped inside. But he paused to examine +the pasters and chalk marks on the body. One read "Buffalo—4—LLM."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> +There were the names of various cities and numerous strange marks. It +was evident the car had been quite a globe-trotter in its time, but as +it stood there then it seemed to Pee-wee that so it must have stood for +a dozen years and was likely to stand for a dozen years more.</p> + +<p>He slid the door a little farther open on its rusty hinges and climbed +inside. It was very dark and still and smelled like a stable, but +suddenly he was aware of a movement not far from him. He did not exactly +hear it, but he felt that something was moving. For a moment a cold +shudder went over him and he stood stark still, not daring to move. +Then, believing that his imagination had played a trick, he fumbled in +his duffel bag, found his flashlight and sent its vivid gleam about the +car. A young fellow in a convict's suit stood menacingly before the door +with one hand upon it, blinking and watching the boy with a lowering +aspect. His head was close-shaven and shone in the light's glare so that +he looked hardly human. He had apparently sprung to the door, perhaps +out of a sound sleep, and he was evidently greatly alarmed. Pee-wee was +also greatly alarmed, but he was no coward and he stood his ground +though his heart was pounding in his breast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span></p> + +<p>"You ain't no bo," said the man.</p> + +<p>"I—I'm a scout," stammered Pee-wee, "and I was going to camp here for +the night. I didn't know there was anyone here."</p> + +<p>The man continued to glare at him and Pee-wee thought he had never in +his life seen such a villainous face.</p> + +<p>"I'll—I'll go away," he said, "I was only going to sleep here."</p> + +<p>The convict, still guarding the door, leered brutally at him, his head +hanging low, his lips apart, more like a beast than a man.</p> + +<p>"No, yer won't go 'way, nuther," he finally said; "yer ain't goin' ter +double-cross <i>me</i>, pal. Wot d'yer say yer wuz?"</p> + +<p>"A scout," said Pee-wee. "I don't need to stay here, you were here +first. I can camp outdoors."</p> + +<p>"No, yer don't," said the man. "You stay whar yer are. Yer ain't goin' +ter double-cross <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean by that," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>The convict did not offer him any explanation, only stood guarding the +door with a threatening aspect, which very much disconcerted Pee-wee. He +was a scout and he was brave, and not panicky in peril or emergency, but +the striped clothing and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> cropped head and stupid leer of the man before +him made him seem something less than human. His terror was more that of +an animal than of a man and his apparent inability to express himself +save by the repetition of that one sentence frightened the boy. +Apparently the creature was all instinct and no brains.</p> + +<p>"Yer gotta stay here," he repeated. "Yer ain't goin' ter double-cross +<i>me</i>, pal."</p> + +<p>Then it began to dawn on Pee-wee what he meant.</p> + +<p>"I guess I know about you," he said, "because I heard about +your—getting away. But, anyway, if you let me go away I won't tell +anyone I saw you. I don't want to camp here now. I'll promise not to go +and tell people, if that's what you're afraid of."</p> + +<p>"Wot's in that bag?" asked the man.</p> + +<p>"My camping things."</p> + +<p>"Got any grub?"</p> + +<p>"I've got two biscuits and some chocolate."</p> + +<p>"Gimme it," said the man, coming closer.</p> + +<p>He snatched the food as fast as it was taken out of the bag, and Pee-wee +surmised that he had not eaten since his escape from prison for he +devoured it ravenously like a famished beast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span></p> + +<p>"Got any more?" he asked, glaring into the boy's face menacingly.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm sorry I haven't. I escaped, too, as you might say, from my +friends—from the fellers I was with. And I only brought a little with +me."</p> + +<p>After a few minutes (doubtless from the stimulating effects of the +food), the convict's fear seemed to subside somewhat and he spoke a +little more freely. But Pee-wee found it very unpleasant being shut in +with him there in the darkness, for, of course, the flashlight could not +be kept burning all the time.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't do yer no hurt," he assured Pee-wee. "I t'ought mebbe yer +wuz a <i>de</i>-coy. Yer ain't, are ye?" he asked suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not," said Pee-wee, "I'm just what I told you——"</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' ter leave ye go free, so ye might's well shut up. I seen +pals double-cross <i>me</i>—them ez I trusted, too. Yer square, I +guess—only innercent."</p> + +<p>"I'd keep my word even with—I'd keep my word with you," said Pee-wee, +"just the same as with anyone. Besides, I don't see what's the use of +keeping me here. You'll have to let me go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> some time, you can't keep me +here forever, and you can't stay here forever, yourself."</p> + +<p>"If ye stan' right 'n' show ye're game," said the convict, "thar won't +no hurt come to ye. This here car's way-billed fer Buff'lo, 'n' I'm +waitin' ter be took up now. It's a grain car. Yer ain't goin' ter peach +wot I tell ye, now? I wuz put wise to it afore I come out by a railroad +bloke. I had it straight these here cars would be picked up fer Buff'lo +the nex' day after I done my trick. But they ain't took 'em up yet, an' +I'm close ter starvin' here."</p> + +<p>Pee-wee could not help but feel a certain sympathy with this man, wretch +though he was, who on the information of some accomplice outside the +prison, had made his escape expecting to be carried safely away the next +day and had been crouching, half-starved, in this freight car ever +since, waiting.</p> + +<p>"What will you do if they don't take up the car for a week?" he asked. +"They might look inside of it, too; or they might change their minds +about taking it."</p> + +<p>He was anxious for himself for he contemplated with terror his +threatened imprisonment, but he could not help being concerned also for +this miserable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> creature and he wondered what would happen if they both +remained in the car for several days more, with nothing to eat. Then, +surely, the man would be compelled to put a little faith in him and let +him go out in search of food. He wondered what he should do in that +case—what he ought to do; but that, he realized, was borrowing trouble. +Mr. Ellsworth, his scoutmaster, had once said that it is <i>always bad to +play false</i>. Well, then, would it be bad to play false with an escaped +felon—to double-cross him? Pee-wee did not know.</p> + +<p>His companion interrupted his train of thought "They don' look inside o' +way-billed empties—not much," he said, "an' they don't let 'em stan' so +long, nuther. I got bad luck, I did, from doin' my trick on a Friday. +They'll be 'long pretty quick, though. They reckisitioned all th' empty +grain cars fer Buff'lo. I'm lookin' ter hear th' whistle any minute, I +am, an' I got a pal waitin' fer me in the yards up ter Buff'lo, wid the +duds. When I get there 'n' get me clo's changed, mebbe I'll leave ye +come back if me pal 'n' me thinks ye kin be trusted."</p> + +<p>"I can be trusted now just as much as I could be trusted then," said +Pee-wee, greatly disturbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> at the thought of this enforced journey; +"and how could I get back? I guess maybe you don't know anything about +scouts—maybe they weren't started when you were—— Anyway, a scout can +be trusted. Anybody'll tell you that. If he gives his word he'll keep +it. I don't know anything about what you did and if you ask me if I want +to see you get captured I couldn't tell you, because I don't know how I +feel. But if you'll let me go now I'll promise not to say anything to +anyone. I don't want to go to Buffalo. I want to go to my camp. As long +as I know about you, you got to trust me some time and you might as well +trust me now."</p> + +<p>If the fugitive could have seen Pee-wee's earnest face and honest eyes +as he made this pitiful appeal, he might have softened a little, even if +he had not appreciated the good sense of the boy's remarks.</p> + +<p>"I'd ruther get me other duds on fust, 'n' I'd like fer ter hev ye meet +me pal," he said, with the first touch of humor he had shown. "Now, if +yer go ter cuttin' up a rumpus I'll jest hev ter brain ye, see?"</p> + +<p>Pee-wee leaned back against the side of the car in the darkness as +despair seized him. He had always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> coveted adventure but this was too +much and he felt himself to be utterly helpless in this dreadful +predicament. Even as he stood there in a state of pitiable +consternation, a shrill whistle sounded in the distance, which was +echoed back from the unseen hills.</p> + +<p>"Dat's a freight," said the convict, quickly.</p> + +<p>Pee-wee listened and his last flickering hope was extinguished as he +recognized the discordant rattle and bang of the slow-moving train, +emphasized by the stillness of the night. Nearer and nearer it came and +louder grew the clank and clamor of the miscellaneous procession of box +cars. It was a freight, all right.</p> + +<p>"If—if you'll let me get out," Pee-wee began, on the very verge of a +panic, "if you'll let me get out——"</p> + +<p>The convict fumblingly took him by the throat. He could feel the big, +coarse, warm fingers pressing into the sides of his neck and it gagged +him.</p> + +<p>"If yer open yer head when we're bein' took up, I'll brain yer, hear +that?" he said. "Gimme that light, gimme yer knife."</p> + +<p>He flashed on the light, tore the scout knife from Pee-wee's belt, and +flung the frightened boy against the side of the car. Keeping the light<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> +pointed at him, he opened the knife. The spirit of desperate resolve +seemed to have reawakened within him at the sound of that long-hoped-for +train and Pee-wee was no more to him than an insect to have his life +trampled out if he could not be used or if his use were unavailing. +Here, unmasked, was the man who had braved the tempestuous river on that +dreadful night. Truly, as the sheriff had said, "desperate characters +will take desperate chances."</p> + +<p>"If yer open yer head or call out or make a noise wid yer feet or poun' +de side o' de car or start a-bawlin' I'll brain ye, ye hear? Nobody gets +<i>me</i> alive. An' if anybody comes in here 'cause o' you makin' a noise +and cryin' fer help, yer'll be the fust to git croaked—see?"</p> + +<p>He pointed the light straight at Pee-wee, holding the open jack-knife in +his other hand, and glared at him with a look which struck terror to the +boy's heart. Pee-wee was too frightened and exhausted to answer. He only +shook his head in acknowledgment, breathing heavily.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the train had come abreast of them and stopped. They +could hear the weary puffing of the engine, and voices calling and +occasionally they caught the gleam of a lantern through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> the crack in +the car. Pee-wee remained very still. The convict took his stand in the +middle of the car between the two sliding doors, lowering and alert, +holding the flashlight and the clasp knife.</p> + +<p>Soon the train moved again, then stopped. There were calls from one end +of it to the other. Then it started again and continued to move until +Pee-wee thought it was going away, and his hope revived at the thought +that escape might yet be possible. Then the sound came nearer again and +presently the car received a jolt, accompanied by a bang. The convict +was thrown a little, but he resumed his stand, waiting, desperate, +menacing. Those few minutes must have been dreadful ones to him as he +watched the two doors, knife in hand.</p> + +<p>Then came more shunting and banging and calling and answering, a short, +shrill whistle and more moving and then at last the slow, continuous +progress of the car, which was evidently now at last a part of that +endless miscellaneous procession, rattling along through the night with +its innumerable companions.</p> + +<p>"It's lucky for them," said the convict, through his teeth, as he +relaxed.</p> + +<p>Pee-wee hardly knew what he meant, he had scarcely any interest, and it +was difficult to hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> on account of the noise. He was too shaken up to +think clearly, but he wondered, as the rattling train moved slowly +along, how long he could go without food, how he would get back from +Buffalo, and whether this dreadful companion of his would take his +stand, like an animal at bay, whenever the train stopped.</p> + +<p>After a little time, when he was able to get a better grip on himself +and realize fully his terrible plight, he began to think how, after all, +the scout, with all his resource and fine courage, his tracking and his +trailing and his good turns, is pretty helpless in a real dilemma. Here +was an adventure, and rather too much of a one, and neither he nor any +other scout could extricate him from his predicament. In books they +could have done it with much brave talk, but in real life they could do +nothing. He was tired and frightened and helpless; the shock of the +pressure of those brutal fingers about his neck still distressed him, +and his head ached from it all.</p> + +<p>What wonder if in face of this tragical reality, the scouts with all +their much advertised resource and prowess should lose prestige a little +in his thoughts? Yet it might have been worth while for him to pause and +reflect that though the scout<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> arm is neither brutal nor menacing, it +still has an exceedingly long reach and that it can pin you just as +surely as the cruel fingers which had fixed themselves on his own +throat.</p> + +<p>But he was too terrified and exhausted to think very clearly about +anything.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2><h3>TRACKS AND TRAILING</h3> +</div> + +<p>When the engineer blew the whistle which the convict had heard with such +satisfaction and Pee-wee with such dread, it was by way of warning two +dark figures which were about to cross the tracks. Something bright +which they carried shone in the glare of the headlight.</p> + +<p>"Here comes a freight," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Let it come, I can't stop it," said Roy. "Je-ru-salem, this can is +heavy."</p> + +<p>"Same here," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't carry another can of gas this far for a prince's +ransom—whatever in the dickens that is. Look at the blisters on my +hand, will you? Gee, I'm so hungry I could eat a package of tacks. I bet +Pee-wee's been throwing duck fits. Never mind, we did a good turn. 'We +seen our duty and we done it noble.' Some grammar! They ought to put us +on the cover of the manual. Boy scouts returning from a gasoline hunt! +Good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> turn, turn down the gas, hey? Did you ever try tracking a freight +train? It's terribly exciting."</p> + +<p>"Keep still, will you!" said Tom, setting down his can. "Can't you see +I'm spilling the gasoline? Don't make me laugh."</p> + +<p>"The face with the smile wins," Roy rattled on. "For he ain't no slouch, +but the lad with the grouch—— Pick up your can and get off the +track—safety first!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, for goodness' sake, shut up!" laughed Tom.</p> + +<p>It had been like this all the way back, Tom setting down his can at +intervals and laughing in spite of himself at Roy's nonsense.</p> + +<p>When they reached the boat Roy looked inside and called Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"Where is our young hero, anyway?" he said.</p> + +<p>But "our young hero" was not there. They poured the gas into the tank +and then went inside where Roy discovered the note in the saucepan. He +read it, then handed it to Tom and the two stood for a moment staring at +each other, too surprised to speak.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose has got into him?" exclaimed Tom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span></p> + +<p>"Search me; unless he's mad because we left him here."</p> + +<p>Tom looked about as if in search of some explanation, and as usual his +scrutiny was not unfruitful.</p> + +<p>"It looks as if he had started to get supper," said he: "there's the +rice——"</p> + +<p>A sudden inspiration seized Roy. Pulling out the recipe book from his +duffel bag he opened it where the letter to Mary Temple lay. "I thought +so," he said shamefacedly. "I left the end of it sticking out to mark +the place and now it's in between the leaves. That's what did the +mischief; he must have found it."</p> + +<p>"You ought to have torn it up before we started," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"I know it, but I just stuck it in there when I was brushing up my +memory on rice cakes, and there it's been ever since. I ought never to +have written it at all, if it comes to that."</p> + +<p>Tom made no answer. They had never mentioned that incident which was +such an unpleasant memory to them both.</p> + +<p>"Well, we've got to find him, that's all," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Gee, it seems as if we couldn't possibly get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> along without Pee-wee +now," Roy said. "I never realized how much fun it would be having him +along. Poor kid! It serves me right for——"</p> + +<p>"What's the use of thinking about that <i>now</i>?" said Tom, bluntly. "We've +just got to find him Come on, hurry up, get your flashlight. Every +minute we wait he's a couple of hundred feet farther away."</p> + +<p>For the first time in all their trip, as it seemed to Roy, Tom's spirit +and interest were fully aroused. He was as keen as a bloodhound for the +trail and instinctively Roy obeyed him.</p> + +<p>They hurried out without waiting for so much as a bite to eat and with +the aid of their flashlights (and thanks to the recent rains) had no +difficulty in trailing Pee-wee as far as the railroad tracks.</p> + +<p>"He'd either follow the track," said Tom, "or else the road we took and +hide somewhere till we passed. He wouldn't try any cross-country +business at night, I don't believe."</p> + +<p>"Poor kid!" was all Roy could say. The thought of that note which he had +carelessly left about and of Pee-wee starting out alone haunted him and +made him feel like a scoundrel. All his gayety had vanished and he +depended on Tom and followed his lead. He remembered only too well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span> the +wonderful tracking stunt that Tom had done the previous summer, and now, +as he looked at that rather awkward figure, kneeling with head low, and +creeping along from tie to tie, oblivious to all but his one purpose, he +felt a certain thrill of confidence. By a sort of unspoken +understanding, he (who was the most all-round scout of them all and +looked it into the bargain) had acted as their leader and spokesman on +the trip; and Tom Slade, who could no more talk to strangers, and +especially girls, than he could fly, had followed, envying Roy's easy +manner and all-around proficiency. But Tom was a wizard in tracking, and +as Roy watched him now he could not help realizing with a pang of shame +that again it was Tom who had come to the rescue to save him from the +results of his own selfishness and ill-temper. He remembered those +words, spoken in Tom's stolid way on the night of their quarrel. "<i>It's +kind of like a trail in your mind and I got to hit the right trail.</i>" He +<i>had</i> hit the right trail then and brought Roy to his senses, and now +again when that rude, selfish note cropped up to work mischief it was +Tom who knelt down there on the railroad tracks, seeking again for the +right trail.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," he said at last, when he had closely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span> examined and smelt +of a dark spot on one of the ties. "Lucky you let him clean the engine; +he must have been standing in the oil trough."</p> + +<p>"Good he had his sneaks on, too," said Roy, stooping. "It's like a stamp +on a pound of butter."</p> + +<p>It was not quite as clear as that, but if Pee-wee had prepared his +sneaks especially for making prints on wooden ties he could scarcely +have done better. In order to get at the main bearings of the engine he +had, with characteristic disregard, stood plunk in the copper drain +basin under the crank-case. The oil had undoubtedly softened the rubber +sole of his sneakers so that it held the clinging substance, and in some +cases it was possible to distinguish on the ties the half-obliterated +crisscross design of the rubber sole.</p> + +<p>"Come on," said Tom, "this thing is a cinch."</p> + +<p>"It's a shame to call it tracking," said Roy, regaining some measure of +his wonted spirits as they hurried along. "It's a blazed trail."</p> + +<p>And so, indeed, it was while it lasted, but suddenly it ceased and the +boys paused, puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Listen for trains," warned Tom.</p> + +<p>"There won't be any along yet a while," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> Roy. "There's one stopped +up there a ways now."</p> + +<p>They could hear the shunting up the track, interspersed with faint +voices calling.</p> + +<p>"Here's where he's put one over on us," said Roy. "Poor kid."</p> + +<p>"Here's where he's been reading Sir Baden-Powell, you mean. Wait till I +see if he worked the boomerang trick. See that tree up there?"</p> + +<p>It was amazing how readily Tom assumed that Pee-wee would do just what +he had done to elude pursuit.</p> + +<p>"Tree's always a suspicious thing," said he; "this is a Boer +wrinkle—comes from South Africa."</p> + +<p>He did not bother hunting for the tracks in the hubbly ground, but made +straight for the tree.</p> + +<p>"Poor kid," was all he could say as he picked up a few freshly fallen +leaves and a twig or two. "He's good at climbing anyway." He examined +one of the leaves carefully with his flashlight. "Squint around," he +said to Roy, "and see if you can find where he stuck his staff in the +ground."</p> + +<p>Roy got down, poking his light here and there, and parting the rough +growth.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," said he.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span></p> + +<p>Oh, it was all easy—too easy, for a scout. It gave them no feeling of +triumph, only pity for the stout-hearted little fellow who had tried to +escape them.</p> + +<p>A more careful examination of the lower branches of the tree and of the +ground beneath was enough. Tom did not even bother about the prints +leading back to the railroad, but went back to the tracks and after a +few minutes picked up the trail again there. This they followed till +they came to the siding, now deserted.</p> + +<p>Here, for a few minutes, it did seem as if Pee-wee had succeeded in +baffling them, for the prints leaving the ties ran over to the siding +and there ended in a confused collection of footprints pointing in every +direction. Evidently, Pee-wee had paused here, but what direction he had +taken from this point they could not see.</p> + +<p>"This has got <i>me</i> guessing," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"He was tangoing around here," said Roy, pointing his flashlight to the +ground, "that's sure. Maybe the little Indian walked the rail."</p> + +<p>But an inspection of the rail showed that he had not done that, unless, +indeed, the recent rain had obliterated the marks.</p> + +<p>They examined the platform carefully, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> steps, the one or two +hogsheads, but no sign did they reveal.</p> + +<p>"It gets me," said Tom, as they sat down on the edge of the platform, +dangling their legs.</p> + +<p>"He swore he wouldn't go near a railroad—remember?" said Roy, smiling a +little wistfully.</p> + +<p>Tom slowly shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It's all my fault," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, we're losing time," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"You don't suppose——" began Roy. "Where do you suppose that freight +stopped? Here?"</p> + +<p>Tom said nothing for a few moments. Then he jumped down and kneeling +with his light began again examining the confusion of footprints near +the siding. Roy watched him eagerly. He felt guilty and discouraged. Tom +was apparently absorbed with some fresh thought. Around one footprint he +drew a ring in the soil. Then he got up and crept along by the rail +throwing his light upon it. About twelve or fifteen feet along this he +paused, and crossing suddenly, examined the companion rail exactly +opposite. Then he straightened up.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Roy. But he got no answer.</p> + +<p>Tom went back along the rail till he came to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> point twelve or fifteen +feet in the other direction from the group of footprints, and here he +made another careful scrutiny of both rails. The group of footprints was +outside the track and midway between the two points in which he seemed +so much interested.</p> + +<p>"This is the end of <i>our</i> tracking," he said at length.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Come here and I'll show you. See that footprint—it's only half a +one—the front half—see? That's the last one of the lot. That's where +he climbed into the car—see?"</p> + +<p>Roy stood speechless.</p> + +<p>"See? Now come here and I'll show you something. See those little rusty +places on the track? It's fresh rust—see? You can wipe it off with your +finger. There's where the wheels were—see? One, two, three, four—same +on the other side, see? And down there," pointing along the track, "it's +the same way. If it hadn't been raining this week, we'd never known +about a freight car being stalled here, hey? See, those footprints are +just half-way between the rusty spots. There's where the door was. See? +This little front half of a footprint tells the story. He had to climb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +to get in—poor kid. He went on a railroad train, after all."</p> + +<p>Roy could say nothing. He could only stare as Tom pointed here and there +and fitted things together like a picture puzzle. The car was gone, but +it had left its marks, just as the boy had.</p> + +<p>"You put it into my head when you mentioned the train," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure; <i>I</i> put it into your head," said Roy, in disgust. "<i>I'm</i> a +wonderful scout—<i>I</i> ought to have a tin medal! It was you brought me +that letter back. It was Pee-wee got the bird down and won a boat for +us—and I've turned him out of it," he added, bitterly.</p> + +<p>"No, you——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have. And it was <i>you</i> that tracked him, and it was <i>you</i> +spelled this out and it's <i>you</i>—it's just like <i>you</i>, too—to turn +around and say I put it into your head. The only thing <i>I've</i> done in +this whole blooming business is try to insult Mary Temple—only—only +you wouldn't let me get away with it," he stammered.</p> + +<p>"Roy," interrupted Tom, "listen—just a minute." He had never seen Roy +like this before.</p> + +<p>"Come on," said Roy, sharply. "You've done all <i>you</i> could. Come on +back!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span></p> + +<p>Tom was not much at talking, but seeing his friend in this state seemed +to give him words and he spoke earnestly and with a depth of feeling.</p> + +<p>"It's always <i>you</i>," said Roy. "It's——"</p> + +<p>"Roy," said Tom, "don't—wait a minute—<i>please</i>. When we got back to +the boat I said we'd have to find him—don't go on like that, +Roy—please! I thought I could find him. But you see I can't—<i>I</i> can't +find him."</p> + +<p>"You can make these tracks talk to you. I'm a——"</p> + +<p>"No, you're not; listen, <i>please</i>. I said—you remember how I said I +wanted to be alone with you—you remember? Well, now we are alone, and +it's going to be you to do it, Roy; it's going to be <i>you</i> to bring +Pee-wee back. Just the same as you made me a scout a year ago, you +remember? You're the only one can do it, Roy," he put his hand on Roy's +shoulder, "and I'll—I'll help you. And it'll seem like old times—sort +of—Roy. But you're the one to do it. You haven't forgotten about the +searchlight, have you, Roy? You remember how you told me about the +scout's arm having a long reach? You remember, Roy? Come on, hurry up!"</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2><h3>THE LONG ARM OF THE SCOUT</h3> +</div> + +<p>As Tom spoke, there came rushing into Roy's memory as vivid as the +searchlight's shaft, a certain dark night a year before when Tom Slade, +hoodlum, had stood by his side and with eyes of wonder watched him flash +a message from Blakeley's Hill to the city below to undo a piece of +vicious mischief of which Tom had been guilty. He had turned the heavens +into an open book for Westy Martin, miles away, to read what he should +do.</p> + +<p>A thrill of new hope seized Roy.</p> + +<p>"So you see it <i>will</i> be you, Roy."</p> + +<p>"It has to be you to remind me of it."</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" said Tom.</p> + +<p>They ran for the boat at top speed, for, as they both realized, it was +largely a fight against time.</p> + +<p>"That train was dragging along pretty slow when it passed <i>us</i>," said +Tom.</p> + +<p>"Sure, 'bout a million cars," Roy panted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> "There's an up-grade, too, I +think, between here and Poughkeepsie. Be half an hour, anyway, before +they make it. You're a wonder. We'll kid the life out of Pee-wee for +riding on a train after all. 'Spose he did it on purpose or got locked +in?"</p> + +<p>"Locked in, I guess," said Tom. "Let's try scout pace, I'm getting +winded."</p> + +<p>The searchlight which had been an important adjunct of the old <i>Nymph</i> +had not been used on the <i>Good Turn</i>, for the reason that the boys had +not run her at night. It was an acetylene light of splendid power and +many a little craft Harry Stanton had picked up with it in his nocturnal +cruising. Pee-wee had polished its reflector one day to pass the time, +but with the exception of that attention it had lain in one of the +lockers.</p> + +<p>Reaching the boat they pulled the light out, connected it up, and found +to their delight that it was in good working order.</p> + +<p>"My idea," said Roy, now all excitement, "is to flash it from that hill, +then from the middle of the river. Of course, it's a good deal a +question of luck, but it seems as if <i>somebody</i> ought to catch it, in +all these places along the river. Be great if we could find him +to-night, hey?"</p> + +<p>"They'd just have to hold him till we could get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> there in the boat—they +couldn't get him back here."</p> + +<p>"No sooner said than stung," said Roy; "hurry up, bring that can, and +some matches and—yes, you might as well bring the Manual anyway, +thought I know that code backwards."</p> + +<p>"You're right you do," said Tom.</p> + +<p>He was glad to see Roy himself again and taking the lead, as usual.</p> + +<p>"If there was only one of these telegraph operators—guys, as I used to +call them—star-gazing, we'd pass the word to him, all right."</p> + +<p>"A word to the guys, hey? Come on, hustle!"</p> + +<p>A strenuous climb brought them to the brow of a hill from which the +lights of several villages, and the more numerous lights of Poughkeepsie +could be seen.</p> + +<p>"Now, Tomasso, see-a if you know-a de lesson—queeck! Connect that up +and—look out you don't step on the tube! I wish we had a pedestal or +something. When you're roaming, you have to do as the Romans do, hey? +Open your Manual to page 232. No!" he said hurriedly looking over Tom's +shoulder. "<i>Care of the fingernails!</i> That's <i>259</i> you've got. What do +you think we're going to do, start a manicure parlor? <i>There</i> you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> +are—now keep the place to make assurance doubly sure. Here goes! Hello, +folks!" he called, as he swung the long shaft fan-wise across the +heavens. "Now, three dots for S?"</p> + +<p>"Right," said Tom.</p> + +<p>Roy sent three short flashes into the night, then paused and sent a +longer flash of about three seconds. Another pause, then three of the +longer flashes, then a short one, two long ones and a short one.</p> + +<p>"S-T-O-P—stop," he said.</p> + +<p>"Right-o," concurred Tom.</p> + +<p>"Now F—two shorts, a long and a short—is it?"</p> + +<p>"You know blamed well it is," said Tom.</p> + +<p>Thus the message was sent.</p> + +<p><i>"Stop freight going north; boy locked in car. Hold. Friends coming up +river in boat flying yellow flag."</i></p> + +<p>They had on board a large yellow flag with TEMPLE CAMP on it, and Roy +thought of this as being the best means of identifying the boat for +anyone who might be watching for it along the shore.</p> + +<p>Three times they flashed the message, then hurried back to the boat and +chugged out, anchoring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> in midstream. The course of the river is as +straight as an arrow here. The lights in the small towns of Milton and +Camelot were visible on either side; tiny lights flickered along the +railroads that skirted either shore, and beyond in the distance twinkled +the lights on the great bridge at Poughkeepsie.</p> + +<p>"We're right in the steamer's path here," said Tom; "let's hurry."</p> + +<p>Roy played the shaft for a minute to attract attention, then threw his +message again and again into the skies. The long, bright, silent column +seemed to fill the whole heaven as it pierced the darkness in short and +long flashes. The chugging of the <i>Good Turn's</i> engine was emphasized by +the solemn stillness as they ran in toward shore, and the splash of +their dropping anchor awakened a faint echo from the neighboring +mountains.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all we can do till morning," said Roy. "What do you say to +some eats?"</p> + +<p>"Gee, it's big and wild and lonely, isn't it?" said Tom.</p> + +<p>They had never thought of the Hudson in this way before.</p> + +<p>After breakfast in the morning they started upstream, their big yellow +camp flag flying and keeping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> as near the shore as possible so as to be +within hail. Now that the black background of the night had passed and +the broad daylight was all about them, their hope had begun to wane. The +spell seemed broken; the cheerful reality of the morning sunlight upon +the water and the hills seemed to dissipate their confidence in that +long shaft, and they saw the whole experience of the night as a sort of +fantastic dream.</p> + +<p>But Pee-wee was gone; there was no dream about that, and the boat did +not seem like the same place without him.</p> + +<p>The first place they passed was Stoneco, but there was no sign of life +near the shore, and the <i>Good Turn</i> chugged by unheeded. They ran across +to Milton where a couple of men lolled on a wharf and a few people were +waiting at the little station. They could not get in very close to the +shore on account of the flats, but Roy, making a megaphone of an old +newspaper, asked if a flash message had been received there. After much +shouting back and forth, he learned that the searchlight had been seen +but had been thought to be from one of the night boats plying up and +down the river. It had evidently meant nothing to the speaker or to +anyone else there. Roy asked if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> they would please ask the telegraph +operator if he had seen it.</p> + +<p>"He'd understand it all right," he said, a bit disheartened. But the +answer came back that the operator had not seen it.</p> + +<p>At Poughkeepsie they made a landing at the wharf. Here expressmen were +moving trunks about, a few stragglers waiting for some boat peered +through the gates like prisoners; there was a general air of bustle and +a "city" atmosphere about the place. A few people gathered about, +looking at the <i>Good Turn</i> and watching the boys as they made their way +up the wharf.</p> + +<p>"Boy Scouts," they heard someone say.</p> + +<p>There was the usual good-natured curiosity which follows scouts when +they are away from home and which they have come to regard as a matter +of course, but the big yellow flag seemed to carry no particular meaning +to anyone here.</p> + +<p>They walked up to the station where they asked the operator if he had +seen the searchlight message or heard anything about it, but he had not. +They inquired who was the night watchman on the wharf, hunted him out, +and asked him. He had seen the light and wondered what and where it was. +That was all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span></p> + +<p>"Foiled again!" said Roy.</p> + +<p>They made inquiries of almost everyone they saw, going into a nearby +hotel and several of the stores. They inquired at the fire house, where +they thought men would have been up at night who might be expected to +know the Morse code, but the spokesman there shook his head.</p> + +<p>"A fellow who was with us got locked in a freight car," Roy explained, +"and we signaled to people up this way to stop the train."</p> + +<p>The man smiled; apparently he did not take Roy's explanation very +seriously. "Now if you could only get that convict that escaped down +yonder——"</p> + +<p>"We have no interest in him," said Roy, shortly.</p> + +<p>He and Tom had both counted on Poughkeepsie with its police force and +fire department and general wide-awakeness, and they went back to the +<i>Good Turn</i> pretty well discouraged, particularly as the good people of +whom they had inquired had treated them with an air of kindly +indulgence, smiling at their story, saying that the scouts were a +wide-awake lot, and so forth; interested, but good-naturedly skeptical. +One had said, "Are you making believe to telegraph that way? Well, it's +good fun, anyway." Another asked if they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> been reading dime novels. +The patronizing tone had rather nettled the boys.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to have told that fellow that if we <i>had</i> been reading dime +novels, we wouldn't have had time to learn the Morse code," said Roy.</p> + +<p><i>"The Motor Boat Heroes</i>!" mocked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Yes, volume three thousand, and they haven't learned how to run a gas +engine yet! Get out your magnifying glass, Tom; what's that, a village, +up there?"</p> + +<p>"A house."</p> + +<p>"Some house, too," said Roy, looking at the diminutive structure near +the shore. "Put your hand down the chimney and open the front door, +hey?"</p> + +<p>But as they ran in nearer the shore other houses showed themselves +around the edge of the hill and here, too, was a little wharf with +several people upon it and near it, on the shore, a surging crowd on the +edge of which stood several wagons.</p> + +<p>"Guess they must be having a mass meeting about putting a new spring on +the post-office door," said Roy. "Somebody ought to lay a paperweight on +that village a windy day like this. It might blow away. Close your +throttle a little,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> Tom and put your timer back; we'll run in and see +what's up."</p> + +<p>"You don't suppose all that fuss can have anything to do with Pee-wee, +do you?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"No, it looks more as if a German submarine had landed there. There +wouldn't be so much of a rumpus if they'd got the kid."</p> + +<p>But in another moment Roy's skeptical mood had changed as he saw a tall, +slender fellow in brown standing at the end of the wharf with arms +outspread.</p> + +<p>"What's he doing—posing for the movies?"</p> + +<p>"He's semaphoring," Tom answered.</p> + +<p>"I'll be jiggered if he isn't!" said Roy, all interest at once. +"C—O—M—E—— I—(he makes his I too much like his C)—N. <i>What do you +know about that!</i> Come in!"</p> + +<p>The stranger held what seemed to be a large white placard in either hand +in place of a flag and his motions were not as clear-cut as they should +have been, but to Roy, with whom, as he had often said, the semaphore +code was like "pumpkin pie," the message was plain.</p> + +<p>As they ran alongside the wharf the khaki-clad signaler greeted them +with the scout salute.</p> + +<p>"Pretty brisk out on the water this morning?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> he said. "We got your +message—we were out canoeing last night; you use the International +code, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Have you got him?" Roy asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, he's here; pulled in somewhere around midnight, I guess. He +stayed all night with one of our troop; he's up there now getting his +breakfast. Great kid, isn't he?" he laughed. "He was telling us about +rice cakes. We're kind of out of date up here, you know. I was a little +balled up on your spacing," he added as they went up the wharf. "I +haven't got the International down very good. Yes, we were drifting +around, a couple of us, telling Ford jokes, when you sprung it on us."</p> + +<p>"Have you got the signaling badge?" said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I managed to pull that; I'm out for the star now."</p> + +<p>"You'll get it," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Is the kid all right?" Roy asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure; but he had some pretty rough handling, I guess. It was quite +a little movie show when we dragged the other one out. Lucky the station +agent and the constable were there. He's up there now waiting for the +men from Ossining."</p> + +<p>Through the surging crowd Tom and Roy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> could see, sitting on a bench at +the station, a man in convict garb, with his hands manacled together and +a guard on either side of him. In the broad light of day he was a +desperate-looking creature, as he sat with his ugly head hanging low, +apparently oblivious to all about him.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know about him?"</p> + +<p>"Not a thing—except we did know someone got away from Sing Sing the +other night—but we never thought——"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know he was in the same car? That's why the little fellow +couldn't get away. He'd have come back to you, sure."</p> + +<p>Roy doubted it, but he said nothing and presently the mystery was +cleared up by the arrival on the scene of Pee-wee himself, accompanied +by several scouts. They were laughing merrily and seemed greatly elated +that the boat had come; but Pee-wee was rather embarrassed and held back +until Roy dragged him forward.</p> + +<p>"Kiddo," said he, looking straight into the boy's face, "the <i>Good Turn</i> +couldn't have lived another day without you. So you did hit the railroad +after all, didn't you? Gee, it's good to see you; you've caused us more +worry——" he put his arm over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> Pee-wee's shoulder and turned away with +him, and the others, being good scouts, had sense enough not to follow.</p> + +<p>"Pee-wee," said Roy, "don't try to tell me—that can wait. Listen, +kiddo. We're in the same boat, you and I. We each wrote a letter that we +shouldn't have written, but yours was received and mine wasn't—thanks +to Tom. We've got to forget about both those letters, Pee-wee. I was +ashamed of mine before I'd finished writing it. There's no good talking +about it now. You're with us because we want you with us, not because +Mary Temple wanted it, but because <i>I</i> want you and Tom wants you; do +you hear? You know who it is that's always doing something for someone +and never getting any credit for it, don't you? It's Tom Slade. He saved +me from being a crazy fool—from sending that letter to Mary. And I came +to my senses the next day. He tracked you to that car, only it always +seems to work around so that someone else gets all the glory. It makes +me feel like a—— Listen to them over there now, talking about +<i>signaling</i>. Pee-wee, you gave us an awful scare. It didn't seem natural +on top of the cabin last night without you—you little mascot! We're not +going to have another word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> to say about this, kid—I'm your patrol +leader, remember. We're going to hit it straight for camp now—the three +of us—the Big Three—and you're with us because we can't do without +you. Do you get that?"</p> + +<p>"Roy," said Pee-wee, speaking with difficulty. "I—I had an—adventure."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should think you did."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2><h3>TEMPLE CAMP</h3> +</div> + +<p>The scouts of the village stood upon the wharf and waved a last good-bye +to the three as the <i>Good Turn</i> chugged merrily away.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to give that fellow the full salute," said Tom, raising his +hand to his forehead. "He's a wonder."</p> + +<p>The scouts on shore received this tribute to their comrade with shouts, +throwing their hats in the air and giving three lusty cheers for the +"Silver Foxes and the Elks" as the launch, swerving out into midstream, +bent her course for Catskill Landing.</p> + +<p>"He sure is a wonder," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"I told him all about you," chimed in Pee-wee, "and all the stunts you +can do."</p> + +<p>"He seems to be prouder of his Ford jokes than of his signal work," +laughed Roy. "He——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, crinkums, he knows some dandy Ford jokes, and his wrist is so +strong from paddling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> that he can stick a shovel in the ground and turn +it around with one hand; oh, he's got that paddle twist down fine, Roy; +but, gee, he says you're all right; even before you came he said that; +as soon as I told him who it was that signaled——"</p> + +<p>"Do you think they'll come up?" Roy interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Sure they will; I told them all about the camp and how they could have +a cabin to themselves—they're only a small troop, one patrol, and he +wants to know you better; gee, I told him all about you and how you +could——"</p> + +<p>"All right, kiddo," laughed Roy.</p> + +<p>"They're coming up in August. Say, that fellow's got eleven merit +badges, but the one thing he's crazy to get is the gold cross."</p> + +<p>"He'll get it," said Tom, who had been wiping the engine.</p> + +<p>"He says the trouble is," added Pee-wee, "that he can't save anybody's +life with great danger to his own—that's what it says in the Manual, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tom, quietly.</p> + +<p>"He says the trouble is nobody ever gets in danger. The trouble with his +troop is they all know how to swim and they're so blamed clever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> that he +never has a chance to rescue one of them. He said he tipped the canoe +over with one fellow and the fellow just wouldn't be saved; he swam +around and dived and wouldn't let Garry imperil his life—and that's the +only way you can do it, Roy. You've got to imperil your own life, and he +says he never gets a chance to imperil his life."</p> + +<p>"Must be discouraging," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, jiminys, you'd laugh to hear him talk; he's got that quiet way +about him, Roy—sober like. I told him there's lots of different ways a +feller can imperil his life."</p> + +<p>"Sure, fifty-seven varieties," said Roy. "Well, I'm glad they treated +you so well, kid, and I hope we'll have a chance to pay them back. What +do you say we tie up in Kingston and have a soda?"</p> + +<p>Early the next day they came in sight of Catskill Landing. Roy stood on +top of the cabin like Columbus, his rapt gaze fixed upon the dock.</p> + +<p>"We have arrove," said he. "Gee, I'm sorry it's over."</p> + +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 518px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="illus-002" id="illus-002"></a> +<img src='images/illus-map.png' alt='' title='' width = '518' height = '400'/> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span></p><p>The trip <i>had</i> been enjoyable, but now their every thought was centered +upon Temple Camp to which they were so near and they were filled with +delightful anticipations as they made ready for the hike which still lay +before them. The boating club, with the hospitality which a love of the +water seems always to inspire in its devotees, gave them a mooring buoy +and from this, having made their boat fast, they rowed ashore and set +out with staves and duffel bags for the quaint little village of Leeds.</p> + +<p>The distance to Leeds depends upon who is making the journey, or from +whom you get your information. The farmers will tell you it is five +miles. The summer boarders are likely to tell you that it is ten. To be +exact, it is somewhere between two miles and twenty miles, and you can't +get back to Catskill Landing for dinner.</p> + +<p>"I think it's ten miles there and twenty miles back," said Roy; "<i>we</i> +should worry! When we get to Leeds we make our grand dash for the lake."</p> + +<p>"Like Peary," said Pee-wee, already bubbling over with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Something like him, yes."</p> + +<p>Their way took them through a beautiful hilly country and for a while +they had glimpses of the river, which brought them pleasant +reminiscences of their rambling, happy-go-lucky voyage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who does the <i>Good Turn</i> belong to?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"I think it belongs to Honorable Pee-wee Harris," said Roy. "He did the +trick that won it."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you who she belongs to," said Pee-wee. "She belongs to the +First Bridgeboro Troop, Boy Scouts of America."</p> + +<p>"Raven, Fox and Elk!" said Roy. "Right you are, Pee-wee. United we +stand, divided we squall."</p> + +<p>A tramp of a couple of hours over country roads brought them to Leeds, +and they hiked along its main street contributing not a little to its +picturesqueness with their alert, jaunty air, their brown complexions +which matched so well with the scout attire, their duffel bags and their +long staves. More than one farmer and many an early summer boarder +stared at them and hailed them pleasantly as they passed along.</p> + +<p>"I like this village," said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>"I'll have it wrapped up for you," said Roy; "Take it, or have it sent?"</p> + +<p>"How do we get to Black Lake?" Tom asked of a man who was lounging +outside one of the shops.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ye ain't goin' to walk it, be ye?" he answered, scrutinizing them +curiously.</p> + +<p>"Right you are," said Roy. "How did you guess?"</p> + +<p>"Ye got a pooty smart walk afore ye," the man said, dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Well, we're pretty smart boys," said Roy. "Break it to us gently, and +let us hear the worst."</p> + +<p>"Baout five mile 'f ye take th' hill rud."</p> + +<p>"Gracious, goodness me!" said Roy, "are they all the same length?"</p> + +<p>"Haouw?"</p> + +<p>"The miles; lads, I'm just reckless enough to do it."</p> + +<p>"Wall," drawled their informant, "Ye go 'long this rud t'l ye come t' a +field whar thar's a red caouw, then ye cut right through th' middle uv +it 'n' go on over a stun wall 'n' ye'll come to a woods rud. Ye foller +that t'l ye come to a side path on the left on it that goes up hill. +Black Lake's t'other side that hill. Ye got to pick yer way up through +the woods 'long that path if ye kin foller it, 'n' when ye git t' the +top ye kin look daown 'n' see th' lake, but ye'll have a smart climb +gettin' daown th' hill."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's us," said Roy. "Thanks—thanks very much."</p> + +<p>When they had gone a little way he halted Tom and Pee-wee with a +dramatic air.</p> + +<p>"Lads," said he, "we've got the <i>Motor Boat Heroes</i> and the <i>Dauntless +Chums</i> and <i>Submarine Sam</i> beaten to a frazzle! We're the <i>Terrible Trio +Series</i>, volume two million. Lads, get out your dirks and keep up stout +hearts. We have to cut through the middle of a red cow! That man said +so!"</p> + +<p>Three-quarters of an hour more along an apparently disused road and they +came upon a trail which was barely discernible, leading up a steep and +densely wooded hill. In places they had to climb over rugged terraces, +extricating themselves from such mazes of tangled underbrush as they had +never before seen. Now and then the path seemed to peter out and they +found it again with difficulty and only by the skilful use of scout +tracking lore. The long, steep climb was filled with difficulties, but +they pressed on amazed at the wildness all about them.</p> + +<p>At last, by dint of much hard effort and after many wasted steps through +loss of the trail, they came out upon the summit, and looked down upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +a sight which sent a thrill to all three. The other side of the hill +was, perhaps, not as steep as the side which they had mounted, but it +was thickly wooded and at its base was a sheet of water surrounded by +lofty hills, all covered with dense forest, which extended right down to +the water's edge. The lake was perhaps a mile long, and lay like a dark +jewel amid the frowning heights which closed it in. The trees along +shore were dimly reflected in the still, black water. The quiet of the +spot was intense. It was relieved by no sign of habitation, save a +little thin, uncertain column of smoke which rose from among the trees +on the farther shore.</p> + +<p>The solemnity of the scene, the blackness and isolation of that sheet of +water, the dense woods, rising all around it and shutting out the world, +was quite enough to cast a spell on anyone, and the three boys looked +about them awestruck and for a moment speechless.</p> + +<p>"Jiminy crinkums!" said Pee-wee, at length.</p> + +<p>Tom only shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Reminds you of Broadway and Forty-second Street," said Roy.</p> + +<p>They started down the hill and found that their descent was quite as +difficult as the ascent had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> been, but at last they reached the foot and +now, from this lower viewpoint they could catch a glimpse of the wood +interior on the opposite shore. There were several log cabins +harmonizing in color with the surrounding forest and, therefore, +inconspicuous. Farther from the shore the boys glimpsed another and +larger structure and at the water's edge they now saw a boat drawn up.</p> + +<p>It was evident that the way they had come was not the usual way to reach +the camp, for there was no sign of trail along the shore, and to pick +their way around, with the innumerable obstacles which beset the way, +would have taken several hours.</p> + +<p>"It must be lively around here on Saturday nights with the crowd out +doing their marketing, and the movie shows——" began Roy.</p> + +<p>"Aw, shut up!" said Pee-wee.</p> + +<p>They raised their voices in unison and shouted, and the echo resounded +from the hills across the water, almost as loud and distinguishable as +their own call. Roy yelled long and loud, slapping his open lips with +the palm of his hand, and a pandemonium of similar sounds came back as +if from a multitude of voices.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, when John Temple does a thing he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> does it right!" said +Pee-wee. "Gee, you can't deny that!"</p> + +<p>In a few moments a man approached on the opposite shore and leisurely +got into the boat. As he rowed across, he looked around once in a while, +and as the boat drew near the boys saw that its occupant had iron gray +hair, a long drooping moustache, and a face deeply wrinkled and browned +almost to a mulatto hue.</p> + +<p>"Hello," called Roy. "Is that Temple Camp over there? I guess we came in +the back way."</p> + +<p>"Thet's it," said the man. "You some o' the Bridgeboro boys?"</p> + +<p>His voice was low and soft, as of one who has lived long in the woods by +himself. There was a humorous twinkle in his eye which the boys liked. +He was long and lanky and wore khaki trousers and a coarse gray flannel +shirt. His arms, which were bare, were very sinewy. Altogether, the +impression which he made on the boys was that he was perfectly +self-possessed and at ease, so absolutely sure of himself that nothing +in all the wide world could frighten him or disconcert him. The +President of the United States, kings, emperors, millionaires—including +John<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> Temple—might want to be rowed across and this man would come +leisurely over and get them, but he would not hurry and he would be no +more embarrassed or flustered at meeting them than a tree would be. +Nature, the woods and mountains and prairies, had put their stamp upon +him, had whispered their secrets to him, and civilization could not +phase him. That was the way he struck the boys, who from being scouts +had learned to be observant and discerning.</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. Rushmore?" Tom asked, and as the man nodded assent he +continued, "My name is Tom Slade; we're members of the Bridgeboro Troop +and I'm the one selected to help you. I don't know if you expected me +yet, but my scoutmaster and Mr. Temple thought I better come ahead of +the other fellows so's to help you and get acquainted—like. These +fellows came with me just for fun, but, of course, they want to help get +things ready. The rest are coming up in July."</p> + +<p>This was a good deal for Tom to say at a stretch, and it fell to the +voluble Pee-wee later to edify Mr. Rushmore with all the details of +their trip, winding up with a glowing peroration on Roy's greatness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span></p> + +<p>"Waal, I reck'n I'm glad ye've come—the hull three on ye," Jeb Rushmore +drawled.</p> + +<p>"That's some trail over that hill," said Roy, as they rowed across. "We +lost it about a dozen times."</p> + +<p>"Thet? Thet ain't no trail," said Jeb. "Thet's a street—a thurafare. +I'm a-goin' t' test you youngsters out follerin' thet on a dark night."</p> + +<p>"Have a heart!" said Roy. "I could never pick that out with a +flashlight."</p> + +<p>"A what? Ye won't hev no light o' no sort, not ef <i>I</i> know it."</p> + +<p>The boys laughed. "Well, I see we're up against the real thing," said +Roy, "but if that's a thoroughfare, I'd like to see a trail—that's +all."</p> + +<p>"Ye don' need ter see it," drawled Jeb. "Ye jest <i>feel</i> it."</p> + +<p>"You must have a pretty good sense of touch," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Ye don' feel it with your hands, youngster, ye jest <i>sense</i> it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Good night!</i>" said Roy.</p> + +<p>Tom said nothing. He had been watching Mr. Rushmore and hanging with +rapt attention on his every word.</p> + +<p>They found the hill on the opposite shore not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> as steep as it had looked +from across the water, and here at its base, in the dim solitude by the +shore, was Temple Camp. There was a large open pavilion built of +untrimmed wood, which would accommodate eight or ten troops, allowing to +each some measure of privacy and there were as many as a dozen log +cabins, some large enough for two or three patrols, others intended +evidently to accommodate but one. There was a shack for the storage of +provisions and equipment, in which the boys saw among other things piles +upon piles of wooden platters.</p> + +<p>"Not much dishwashing here," said Pee-wee, joyfully.</p> + +<p>Here, also, were half a dozen tents and every imaginable article +necessary to camp life. Close by was a cooking shack and outside this +several long mess boards with rough seats; and just beyond was a spring +of clear water.</p> + +<p>Jeb Rushmore had a cabin to himself upon the outside of which sprawled +the skins of as many as a dozen different sorts of animals—the trophies +of his life in the West.</p> + +<p>John Temple had certainly done the thing right; there was no doubt of +that. He had been a long time falling, but when he fell he fell hard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> +Temple Camp comprised one hundred acres of woodland—"plenty of room to +grow in," as Jeb said. It was more than a camp; it was really a +community, and had somewhat the appearance of a frontier trading post. +In its construction very little bark had been taken from the wood; the +whole collection of buildings fitted well in their wild surroundings; +there wasn't a jarring note.</p> + +<p>But Temple Camp was unique not only in its extent, its rustic character +and its magnificent situation; it was the fulfilment of a grand dream +which John Temple had dreamed. Any troop of scouts could, by making +timely application to the trustees, go to Temple Camp and remain three +weeks without so much as a cent of cost. There was to be absolutely no +favoritism of any kind (and Jeb Rushmore was the man to see to that), +not even in the case of the Bridgeboro Troop; except that troops from +cities were to be given preference over troops from country districts. +Jeb Rushmore was to be the camp manager, working with the trustees and +the visiting scoutmasters; but as it turned out he became a character in +this scout village, and if he fell short in executive capacity he more +than made up for it in other ways. Before the first season was over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +people came miles to see him. There were also a doctor and a cook, +though a troop occupying a cabin could do its own cooking and mess by +itself if it chose.</p> + +<p>There were some rather interesting rules and regulations. If a scout won +a merit badge while at camp this entitled his whole troop to lengthen +its stay by two days, if it so elected. If he won the life scout badge, +four extra days was the reward of his whole troop. The star badge meant +an extra week, the eagle badge ten extra days. A scout winning the +bronze cross was entitled with his troop to occupy "Hero Cabin" and to +remain two extra weeks at camp. The silver cross meant three extra +weeks; the gold cross four extra weeks. If a troop could not +conveniently avail itself of this extra time privilege in the current +season it could be credited with the time and use it, whole or +piecemeal, in subsequent seasons.</p> + +<p>On the lake there were to be several boats which were not yet ready, and +every scout winning a life saving medal was to have a boat named for +him. At the time the boys arrived there was only one boat and that was +named <i>Mary Temple</i>.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2><h3>HERO CABIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>The history of Temple Camp during that gala season of its opening would +fill a book; but this is not a history of Temple Camp, and we must pass +at once to those extraordinary happenings which shook the little scout +community to its very center and cast a shadow over the otherwise +pleasant and fraternal life there.</p> + +<p>By the middle of July every inch of space in the pavilion was occupied, +and among the other troops which lodged there was the little troop from +down the Hudson, of which Garry Everson was the leader. Tom had tried to +procure cabin accommodations for these good friends, but the cabins had +all been spoken for before their application came and they had to be +content with the less desirable quarters. During the early days of their +stay the Bridgeboro Troop arrived in a blaze of glory; the Ravens, with +their pride and delight, Doc Carson, first aid boy; the rest of the +Silver<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span> Foxes with Westy Martin, Dorry Benton and others; and Tom's own +patrol, the Elks, with Connie Bennett, the Bronson boys, the famous +O'Connor twins, all with brand new outfits, for this was a new patrol. +Three small cabins had been reserved for them and in these they settled +down, each patrol by itself and flying its own flag. Tom, by reason of +his duties, which identified him with the camp as a whole rather than +with any troop or patrol, occupied the cabin with Jeb Rushmore, and +though he was much with the Elks, he had delegated Connie Bennett to +substitute as patrol leader for the time being.</p> + +<p>Garry Everson was a general favorite. Not only had his stunt of +receiving the signal message and restoring the fugitive Pee-wee won him +high regard with the Bridgeboro boys, but his quiet manner and whimsical +humor had made him many friends throughout the camp. He was tall and +slim, but muscular; the water seemed to be his specialty; he was an +expert at rowing and paddling, he could dive in a dozen different ways +and as for swimming, no one at Temple Camp could begin to compete with +him.</p> + +<p>Tom's friendship with Garry Everson had grown quite intimate. They were +both interested<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> in tracking and made many little trips together, for +Tom had much time to himself.</p> + +<p>One morning, as Tom, according to rule, was making his regular +inspection of the pavilion, he lingered for a few minutes in Garry's +corner to chat with him.</p> + +<p>"You're not getting ready to go?" he asked in surprise, noticing that +some of the troop's paraphernalia had been packed.</p> + +<p>"Beginning to get ready," said Garry. "Sit down. Why didn't you bring +your knitting?"</p> + +<p>"I can't stay long," said Tom. "I've got to inspect the cabins yet, and +then I've got to make up the program for campfire yarns to-night. By +the way, couldn't <i>you</i> give us a spiel?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure," said Garry. "<i>The Quest of the Honor Medal</i>. I'll tell how +nobody ever gets into danger here—or imperils his life, as Pee-wee +would say. I'm going to put a notice up on one of the trees and get you +to read another at mess with the regular announcements: Wanted; by scout +seeking honor medal; someone willing to imperil his life. Suitable +reward. Apply Temple Camp pavilion. Signed, Would-be Hero."</p> + +<p>Tom laughed.</p> + +<p>"I'm like old What's-his-name, Cæsar. Ready<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> to do the conquest act, but +nothing more to conquer. Believe me, it's no cinch being a would-be +hero. Couldn't you get bitten by a rattlesnake on one of your tracking +stunts? Get your foot on him, you know, and he'll be wriggling and +squirming to get his head free, and his cruel fangs will be within an +inch of your ankle and you'll just begin to feel them against your +stocking——"</p> + +<p>"Don't," laughed Tom.</p> + +<p>"When all of a sudden I'll come bounding out of the thicket, and I'll +grab him by the head and force his cruel jaws shut and slip an elastic +band around his mug. That ought to pull the silver cross, hey? And I and +my faithful followers would get three extra weeks in camp."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to stay longer?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Foolish question, number three million. Haven't we had the time of our +young lives? I never knew two weeks to go so fast. Never mind, we've got +two days more—and two days <i>only</i> unless I get some answers to my +'ad.'"</p> + +<p>"Where's your patrol this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Stalking; they've a date with a robin. I would have gone along except I +didn't see much chance of any of them imperilling their lives taking +snapshots of robins. So I stayed home to do a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> packing—things we +won't need again. But no use thinking about that, I suppose; that's what +I tell them. We've had some good times, all right. Seems a pity we have +to go just when Mr. Temple and his daughter have come. You're a lucky +kid; you stay till the last gun is fired, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm going to stay till we close up. Come on, stroll up the hill +with me. I've got to raise the colors. If you've only two days more +there's no use moping around in here."</p> + +<p>"All right, wait a minute and I'll be with you—dry the pensive tear, as +your friend Roy would say. He's an all-around scout, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he came right off the cover of the Manual, Mr. Ellsworth says."</p> + +<p>"You're a bully troop, you fellows. Gee, I envy you. Trouble with us," +he continued, as they walked up the hill together, "is we haven't any +scoutmaster. I'm scoutmaster and patrol leader rolled into one. We're +going to get better organized this winter. There's only just the seven +of us, you know, and we haven't got any money. You might think that +because we live in a country village on the Hudson everything's fine and +dandy. But there's blamed little money in our burg. Four of our troop +have to work after school. One<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> works all day and goes to night school +down to Poughkeepsie. I saved up two years to buy that canoe I was in +when I caught your message."</p> + +<p>"Well, you caught it all right," said Tom, with a note of pride in his +usually expressionless voice.</p> + +<p>"We'll come out all right, though," said Garry, cheerily. "That's what +I'm always telling them; only we're so gol-blamed poor."</p> + +<p>"I know what it is," said Tom, after a pause. "Maybe that's what makes +us such good friends, sort of. I lived in a tenement down in Bridgeboro. +I've got to thank Roy for everything—Roy and Mr. Ellsworth. They all +treat me fine and you'd never know most of them are rich fellows; but +somehow—I don't just know how to tell you—- but you know how a scout +is supposed to be a brother to every other scout. Well, it seems to me, +kind of, as if a poor fellow is a brother to every other poor +fellow—and—and—I understand."</p> + +<p>"It's easy to see they all think a lot of you," said Garry. "Well, we've +had a rattling good time up here and I don't suppose we'll feel any +worse about going away than lots of others will. If you miss one thing +you usually have another to make up. We're all good friends in our +little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> troop—we have more fun than you could shake a stick at, joshing +each other about different kinds of heroic stunts, to win an honor +medal, and some of them have thought up the craziest things——"</p> + +<p>"I wish you could stay," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, as some old duffer +said."</p> + +<p>The wooded hill sloped upward behind the camp for a distance of some +hundred yards, where it was broken by a sheer precipice forming one side +of a deep gully. This was the work of man, having once been a railroad +cut, but it had been in disuse for many years and was now covered with +vegetation. You could walk up the hill till you came to the brink of +this almost vertical chasm, but you could no more scramble down it than +you could scramble down a well. On the opposite side of the cut the hill +continued upward and the bridging of the chasm by the scouts themselves +had been a subject of much discussion; but up to the present time +nothing had been done and there was no way to continue one's ascent of +the hill except to follow along the edge of the cut to a point where the +precipice was low enough to allow one to scramble down—a walk of +several miles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span></p> + +<p>Right on the brink of this old overgrown cut was a shack which had +probably once been used by the workmen. Although on the Camp property it +was rather too far removed from the other buildings to be altogether +convenient as a living place, but its isolated situation had attracted +the boys, and the idea of calling it Hero Cabin was an inspiration of +Roy's. Mr. Keller, one of the trustees, had fallen in with the notion +and while deprecating the use of this remote shack for regular living +quarters, had good-naturedly given his consent that it be used as the +honored domicile of any troop a member of which had won an honor medal. +Perhaps he thought that, honor medals being not so easily won, it would +be quite safe to make this concession.</p> + +<p>In any event, it was quite enough for the boys. A committee was formed +with a member from each troop to make the shack a suitable abode for a +hero and his court. Impulsive Roy was the moving spirit of the plan; +Pee-wee was its megaphone, and in the early days of the Bridgeboro +troop's stay a dozen or more scouts had worked like beavers making a +path up through the woods, covering the shack with bark, and raising a +flagpole near it. They had hiked into Leeds and bought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> material for a +flag to fly above the shack showing the name, HERO CABIN, and they had +fitted it with rustic bunks inside.</p> + +<p>The idea was a good one, the boys had taken a great deal of pride and +pleasure in the work of preparation, the whole thing had given rise to +much friendly jealousy as to what troop should be honored by residence +here and what fortunate scout should be escorted to this new abode amid +acclamations. Probably every troop in camp had dreams of occupying it (I +am sure that Pee-wee had), and of spending its "honor time" here.</p> + +<p>But apparently Mr. Keller, who was not much given to dreaming, was right +in his skeptical conjecture for Hero Cabin remained unoccupied, though +Tom made it a point to tramp up and raise and lower the colors there +each day.</p> + +<p>"Some day, maybe next season," said he as they stood on the brink and +gazed across the deep gully, "they'll bring somebody up here riding on +their shoulders. You can't win an honor medal every day in the week. I +think the bronze cross would be enough for <i>me</i>—let alone the silver or +the gold one. I'd be satisfied with that, wouldn't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> + +<p>"Except that the gold cross gives you four extra weeks," said Garry, +"and, of course, the more risk a fellow takes, the greater the honor +is." He picked up a pebble and threw it at a tree across the gully. "I'd +rather have one of those medals," he said, "than anything in the +world—and I want a wireless outfit pretty bad, too. But besides that" +(he kept throwing pebbles across the gully and spoke half absently), +"besides that, it would be fine to have that extra time. Maybe we +couldn't use it <i>all</i> this season, but—look, I can hit that thin tree +every time—but I'm thinking of the little codger mostly; you know the +one I mean—with the light hair?"</p> + +<p>"The little fellow that coughs?"</p> + +<p>"He doesn't cough any more. He did before we came up here. His father +died of consumption. No, he doesn't cough much now—guess it agrees with +him up here. He's—— There, I hit it six times in succession."</p> + +<p>For a few minutes Tom said nothing, but watched as Garry, time after +time, hit the slender tree across the gully.</p> + +<p>"I often dream about having an honor medal, too," he said, after a +while. "We haven't got any in our troop. Roy'll be the one, I guess. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> +suppose the gold cross is the highest award they'll ever have, hey?"</p> + +<p>"Guess so."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing better than gold, is there?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't because there's nothing better than gold," said Garry, still +intent upon hitting his mark. "It's because there's nothing better than +heroism—bravery—risking your life."</p> + +<p>"Diamonds—they might have a diamond cross, hey?"</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"In case they found anything that's better than heroism.[missing: "?]</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. There might be."</p> + +<p>Garry turned and laughingly clapped Tom on the back. "I might push you +over this precipice and then jump down after you, hey?" he laughed.</p> + +<p>"You'd be crushed to death yourself," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, stop talking nonsense or I'll do it. Come on, get your chores +done and we'll go down and have a swim. What'd' you say?"</p> + +<p>He ran his hand through Tom's thick shock of hair and laughed again. +"Come on, forget it," said he. "I've only got two days more here and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> +I'm not going to miss a morning dip. Come on, I'll show you the double +twist dive."</p> + +<p>He put his arm through Tom's with the contagious gaiety that was his, +and started down the hill with him toward the lake.</p> + +<p>"Come on, wake up, you old grouch," he said.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2><h3>COWARD!</h3> +</div> + +<p>There were not many boys bathing at the time this thing happened. Roy +and several of the Silver Foxes were at a little distance from the shore +practising archery, and a number of scouts from other troops lolled +about watching them. Three or four boys from a Pennsylvania troop were +having an exciting time with the rowboat, diving from it out in the +middle of the lake. Pee-wee Harris and Dory Bronson, of Tom's patrol, +were taking turns diving from the spring-board. Tom and Garry joined +them and, as usual, whenever Garry was diving, boys sauntered down to +the shore and watched.</p> + +<p>"Here goes the Temple Twist," said he, turning a complete somersault and +then jerking himself sideways so as to strike the water crossways to the +spring-board.</p> + +<p>There was some applause as he came up spluttering. Tom tried it, but +could not get the twist.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span></p> + +<p>"Try this on your piano," said Garry, diving and striking the water +flat.</p> + +<p>"That's what you call the Bridgeboro Botch," he laughed, as Tom went +sprawling into the water. "Hey, Blakeley," he shouted to Roy, "did you +see the Bridgeboro Botch?"</p> + +<p>"There's no use their trying <i>your</i> tricks," Roy called in genuine +admiration. "I'm coming in in a few minutes, myself."</p> + +<p>But Tom dived very well for all that, and so did Pee-wee, but Dory +Bronson was new at the game.</p> + +<p>The thing which was destined to have such far-reaching consequences +happened suddenly and there was some difference of opinion among the +eye-witnesses as to just how it occurred, but all were agreed as to the +main fact. Dory had just dived, it was Pee-wee's turn next, Tom would +follow, and then Garry, who meanwhile had stepped up to where Roy and +the others were shooting, and was chatting with them.</p> + +<p>They had dived in this order like clockwork for some time, so that when +Dory did not appear on the board the others looked about for him. Just +at that moment a piercing cry arose, and a dozen pairs of eyes were +turned out on the lake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> where the boy was seen struggling frantically. +It was evident that the boys in the boat were pulling to his assistance, +but they were too far away and meanwhile he floundered and struggled +like a madman, sending up cries that echoed from the hills. How he had +gotten out so far no one knew, unless indeed he had tried to swim to the +boat.</p> + +<p>The sight of a human being struggling frantically in the water and lost +to all sense of reason by panic fright is one to strike terror to a +stout heart. Even the skilful swimmer whose courage is not of the +stoutest may balk at the peril. That seemed to be the feeling which +possessed Tom Slade as he stood upon the end of the spring-board and +instead of diving cast a hurried look to where Garry Everson was talking +with Roy.</p> + +<p>It all happened in a moment, the cries from the lake, Tom's hesitation, +his swift look toward Roy and Garry, and his evident relief as the +latter rushed to the shore and plunged into the water. He stood there on +the end of the high spring-board, conspicuous against the blue sky, with +his eyes fixed upon the swimmer. He saw the struggle in the water, saw +the frantic arms clutch at Garry, watched him as he extricated himself +from that insane grasp, saw him catch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span> the struggling figure with the +"neck grip" as the only means of saving both lives, and watched him as +he swam toward shore with his now almost unconscious burden. What he +thought, how he felt, no human being knew. He stood motionless like a +statue until the growing crowd below him set up a cheer. Then he went +down and stood among them.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you see him drowning there?" a fellow demanded of him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did," said Tom.</p> + +<p>The other stared at him for a moment with a peculiar expression, then +swung on his heel and strode away.</p> + +<p>Tom craned his neck to see and spoke to those nearest him, but they only +answered perfunctorily or ignored him altogether. He moved around to +where Roy stood, and Roy, without looking at him, pressed farther into +the crowd.</p> + +<p>"That's he," a boy near him whispered to his neighbor; "stood on the end +of the board, watching. I didn't think we had any cowards here."</p> + +<p>In every face and most of all in the faces of his own troop Tom saw +contempt plainly written. He could not go away from them, for that might +excite fresh comment; so he remained, trying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> to disregard the +significant glances and swallowing hard to keep down the lump which kept +rising in his throat.</p> + +<p>Soon the doctor came, relieving Doc Carson of the Ravens, and the +half-drowned boy was taken to his cabin.</p> + +<p>"He—he's all right, isn't he?" Tom asked of the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the doctor, briefly. "He's one of your own patrol, isn't +he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—sir."</p> + +<p>The doctor looked at him for a moment and then turned away.</p> + +<p>"Hello, old man," said Garry, as he passed him, hurrying to the +pavilion. "Cold feet, eh? Guess you got a little rattled. Never mind."</p> + +<p>The words stabbed Tom like a knife, but at least they were friendly and +showed that Garry did not entirely condemn him.</p> + +<p>He paused at the Elks cabin, the cabin of his own patrol, where most of +the members of his troop were gathered. One or two made way for him in +the doorway, but did not speak. Roy Blakeley was sitting on the edge of +Dory's couch.</p> + +<p>"Roy," said Tom, still hesitating in the doorway<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> of his own patrol +cabin, "can I speak to you a minute?"</p> + +<p>Roy came out and silently followed Tom to a point out of hearing of the +others.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't care so much what the others think," said Tom. "If they want +to think I'm a coward, all right. But I want to tell <i>you</i> how it was so +<i>you</i> won't think so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't mind about me," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"You and Garry—I——"</p> + +<p>"I guess <i>he</i> knows what to think, too," said Roy, coldly. "I guess he +has his opinion of the First Bridgeboro Troop's courage."</p> + +<p>"That's why I care most," said Tom, "on account of disgrace for one +being disgrace for all—and honor, too. But there's something——"</p> + +<p>"Well, you should have thought of that," Roy interrupted impetuously, +"when you stood there and let a strange fellow rescue one of your own +patrol. You practically asked him to do it—everybody saw."</p> + +<p>"There's something——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure, <i>there's something</i>! I suppose you'll be able to dig +something out of the Handbook, defending cowards! You're great on the +Handbook."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span></p> + +<p>Again that something came up in Tom's throat and the ugly word cut him +so that he could hardly speak.</p> + +<p>"No, there isn't anything in the Manual about it," said he, in his slow +monotone, "because I looked."</p> + +<p>Roy sneered audibly.</p> + +<p>"But I thought there might be another law—a 13th one about——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you make me sick with your 13th law!" Roy flared up. "Is that what +you were dreaming about when you stood on the end of that board and +beckoned to Garry——"</p> + +<p>"I didn't beckon, I just looked——"</p> + +<p>"Just looked! Well, I don't claim to be up on the law like you, but the +10th law's good enough for me,—'A scout is brave; he has the courage to +face danger in spite of fear.' This fellow will have the bronze cross, +maybe the silver one, for rescuing one of <i>our</i> troop, one of <i>your own</i> +patrol. <i>You</i> know how we made a resolution that the first honor medal +should come to us! And here you stand there watching and let a stranger +walk away with it!"</p> + +<p>"Do you think he'll get it?" Tom asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course, he'll get it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span></p> + +<p>Tom smiled slightly. "And <i>you</i> think I'm a coward?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not saying what I think. I never <i>did</i> think so before. I know that +fellow will have the cross and they'll be the honor troop because in +<i>our</i> troop we've got——"</p> + +<p>"Don't say that again, Roy; please don't—I——"</p> + +<p>Roy looked at him for one moment; perhaps in that brief space all the +history of their friendship came rushing back upon him, and he was on +the point of stretching out his hand and letting Tom explain. But the +impulse passed like a sudden storm, and he walked away.</p> + +<p>Tom watched him until he entered the patrol shack, and then went on to +his own cabin. Jeb Rushmore was out with the class in tracking, teaching +them how to <i>feel</i> a trail, and Tom sat down on his own couch, glad to +be alone. He thought of the members of his own troop, in and about his +own patrol cabin, ministering to Dory Bronson. He wondered what they +were saying about him and whether Roy would discuss him with others. He +didn't think Roy would do that. He wondered what Mr. Ellsworth would +think—and Jeb Rushmore.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span></p> + +<p>He got up and, fumbling in his duffel bag, fished out the thumbed and +dilapidated Handbook, which was his trusty friend and companion. He +opened it at page 64. He knew the place well enough, for he had many +times coveted what was offered there. There, standing at attention and +looking straight at him, was the picture of a scout, very trim and +natty, looking, as he had often thought, exactly like Roy. Beside it was +another picture of a scout tying knots and he recalled how Roy had +taught him the various knots. His eyes scanned the type above till he +found what he sought.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The bronze medal is mounted on a red ribbon and is awarded to a +scout who has actually saved life where risk is involved.</p> + +<p>"The silver medal is mounted on a blue ribbon and is awarded to a +scout who saves life with considerable risk to himself.</p> + +<p>"The gold medal is mounted on white ribbon and is the highest +possible award for heroism. It may be granted to a scout who has +gravely endangered his own life in actually saving the life of +another."</p></div> + +<p>"It'll mean the silver one for him, all right," said Tom to himself, +"and that's three more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> weeks. I wish it could be the gold one."</p> + +<p>Idly he ran through the pages of the book, pausing here and there. On +page 349 were pictures of scouts rescuing drowning persons. He knew the +methods well and looked at the pictures wistfully. Again at page 278 was +some matter about tracking, with notes in facsimile handwriting. This +put the idea into his mind that he might insert a little handwriting of +his own at a certain place, and he turned to the pages he knew best of +all—33 and 34. He read the whole twelve laws, but none seemed quite to +cover his case. So he wrote in a very cramped hand after Law 12 these +words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"13—A scout can make a sacrifice. He can keep from winning a medal +so somebody else can get it. Especially he must do this if it does +the other scout more good. That is better than being a hero."</p></div> + +<p>He turned to the fly leaf and wrote in sprawling, reckless fashion: "I +am not a coward. I hate cowards." Then he tore the page out and threw it +away. He hardly knew what he was doing. After a few minutes he turned to +page 58, where the picture of the honor medal was.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> As he sat gazing at +it, loud shouting arose in the distance. Nearer and nearer it came, and +louder it grew, until it swelled into a lusty chorus. Around the corner +of the pavilion they came, two score or more of scouts, yelling and +throwing their hats into the air. Tom looked up and listened. Through +the little window he could glimpse them as they passed, carrying Garry +Everson upon their shoulders, and shrieking themselves hoarse. Pee-wee +was there and Artie Val Arlen, of the Ravens, and the little +sandy-haired fellow with the cough, running to keep up and yelling +proudly for his chief and idol.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah for the silver cross!" they called.</p> + +<p>"Three cheers for the honor scout!"</p> + +<p>"Three cheers and three extra weeks!"</p> + +<p>They paused within a dozen feet of where Tom sat, and pushing, elbowing, +fell into the woods path leading up to Hero Cabin. Tom listened until +their voices, spent by the distance, were scarcely audible. Then he fell +to gazing again at the picture of the medal.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2><h3>OSTRACIZED</h3> +</div> + +<p>The question was as to the bronze cross or the silver one, and it was +the silver one which came. Roy, who had been the most observant witness, +testified before the Honor Court that the frantic struggling of the +rescued scout must have incurred danger to the rescuer and that only his +dexterity and skill had saved him.</p> + +<p>But after all, who can say how much risk is involved in such an act. It +is only in those deeds of sublime recklessness where one throws his life +into the balance as a tree casts off a dried leaf that the true measure +of peril is known. That is where insanity and heroism seem to join +hands. And hence the glittering cross of the yellow metal lying against +its satin background of spotless white stands alone by itself, apart +from all other awards.</p> + +<p>There was no thought of it here and least of all by Garry himself. When +asked by the court how much he believed he had jeopardized his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> life, he +said he did not know, and that at the time he had thought only of saving +Dory Bronson. He added that all scouts know the different life-saving +"wrinkles" and that they have to use their judgment. His manner had a +touch of nonchalance, or rather, perhaps of indifference, which struck +one or two of the visiting scoutmasters unfavorably. But Jeb Rushmore, +who was in the room, sitting far back with his lanky arms clasped about +his lanky limbs, and a shrewd look in his eyes, was greatly impressed, +and it was largely because of his voice that the recommendation went to +headquarters for the silver medal. In all of the proceedings the name of +Tom Slade was not once mentioned, though his vantage point on the +spring-board ought to have made his testimony of some value.</p> + +<p>So Garry Everson and his little one-patrol troop took up their abode in +Hero Cabin, and the little sandy-haired fellow with the cough raised and +lowered the colors each day, as Tom had done, and ate more heartily down +at mess, and made birchbark ornaments in the sunshine up at his beloved +retreat, and was very proud of his leader; but he had little use for Tom +Slade, because he believed Tom was a coward.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span></p> + +<p>In due time the Silver Cross itself came, and scouts who strolled up to +visit the cabin on the precipice noticed that sometimes the little +sandy-haired fellow wore it, so that it came to be rumored about that +Garry Everson cared more about him than he did about the medal. There +were times when Garry took his meals up to him and often he was not at +campfire in the evenings. But the little fellow improved each day and +every one noticed it.</p> + +<p>In time the feeling toward Tom subsided until nothing was left of it +except a kind of passive disregard of him. Organized resentment would +not have been tolerated at Temple Camp and it is a question whether the +scouts themselves would have had anything to do with such a conspiracy. +But the feeling had changed toward him and was especially noticeable in +certain quarters.</p> + +<p>Perhaps if he had lived among his own troop and patrol as one of them +the estrangement would have been entirely forgotten, but he lived a life +apart, seeing them only at intervals, and so the coldness continued. As +the time drew near for the troop to leave, Tom fancied that the feeling +against him was stronger because they were thinking of the extra time +they might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> had along with the honor they had lost, but he was +sensitive and possibly imagined that. He sometimes wondered if Roy and +the others were gratified to know that these good friends of their happy +journey to camp could remain longer. But the camp was so large and the +Honor Troop stayed so much by itself that the Bridgeboro boys hardly +realized what it meant to that little patrol up at Hero Cabin. Tom often +thought wistfully of the pleasant cruise up the river and wondered if +Roy and Pee-wee thought of it as they made their plans to go home in the +<i>Good Turn</i>.</p> + +<p>Two friends Tom had, at all events, and these were Jeb Rushmore and +Garry Everson. The Honor Troop was composed mostly of small boys and all +except the little boy who was Garry's especial charge were in Tom's +tracking class. He used to put them through the simpler stunts and then +turn them over to Jeb Rushmore. Apparently, they did not share the +general prejudice and he liked to be with them.</p> + +<p>One afternoon he returned with three or four of these youngsters and +lingered on the hill to chat with Garry. He had come to feel more at +home here than anywhere else.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span></p> + +<p>"How's the kid?" Tom asked, as the sandy haired boy came out of the +cabin and passed him without speaking.</p> + +<p>"Fine. You ought to see him eat. He's a whole famine in himself. You +mustn't mind him," he added; "he has notions."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Tom, "I'm used to being snubbed. It just amuses me in his +case."</p> + +<p>"How's tracking?"</p> + +<p>"Punk. There's so much dust you can't make a track. What we need is +rain, so we can get some good plain prints. That's the only way to teach +a tenderfoot. Jeb says dust ought to be good enough, but he's a fiend."</p> + +<p>"He could track an aeroplane," said Garry. "Everything's pretty dry, I +guess."</p> + +<p>"You'd say so," said Tom, "if you were down through those east woods. +You could light a twig with a sun glass. They're having forest fires up +back of Tannerstown."</p> + +<p>"I saw the smoke," said Garry.</p> + +<p>"There's a couple of hoboes down the cut a ways; we tracked them today, +cooking over a loose fire. I tried to get them to cut it out; told 'em +they'd have the whole woods started. They only laughed. I'm going to +report it to J. R."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span></p> + +<p>"They on the camp land?"</p> + +<p>"If they were they'd have been off before this."</p> + +<p>They strolled out to the edge of the cut and looked off across the +country beyond where the waning sunlight fell upon the dense woods, +touching the higher trees with its lurid glow. Over that way smoke arose +and curled away in the first twilight.</p> + +<p>"There's some good timber gone to kindling wood over there," said Garry.</p> + +<p>"It's going to blow up to-night," said Tom; "look at the flag."</p> + +<p>They watched the banner as it fluttered and spread in the freshening +breeze.</p> + +<p>"Looks pretty, don't it?" said Tom. "Shall we haul it down?"</p> + +<p>"No, let the kid do it."</p> + +<p>Garry called and the little fellow came over for the task he loved.</p> + +<p>"Sunset," said Garry. "Now just look at his muscle," he added, winking +at Tom. "By the time this precious three weeks is up, he'll be a regular +Samson."</p> + +<p>Garry walked a few paces down the hill with Tom. "I wish I could have +had a chance to thank Mr. Temple when he was here," he said, "for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> this +bully camp and that extra time arrangement."</p> + +<p>"He deserves thanks," said Tom.</p> + +<p>They walked on for a few moments in silence.</p> + +<p>"You—<i>you</i> don't think I'm a coward, do you?" said Tom, suddenly. "I +wouldn't speak about it to anyone but you. But I can't help thinking +about it sometimes. I wouldn't speak about it even to Roy—now."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I don't. I think you were a little rattled, that's all. I've +been the same myself. For a couple of seconds you didn't know what to +do—you were just up in the air—and by the time you got a grip on +yourself—I had cheated you out of it. You were just going to dive, +weren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes it's hard to make a fellow understand," said Tom, not +answering the question. "I can't tell you just what I was thinking. +That's my own business. I—I've got it in my Handbook. But all I want to +know is, <i>you</i> don't think I'm a coward, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, I don't."</p> + +<p>Garry turned back and Tom went on down the winding path through the +woods to camp. The breeze, becoming brisker, blew the leaves this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> way +and that, and as he plodded on through the dusk he had to lower his head +to keep his hat from blowing off. The wind brought with it a faint but +pungent odor which reminded him of the autumn days at home when he and +Roy raked up the leaves and burned them behind the Blakeley house. He +avoided this train of thought. His face was stolid, and his manner +dogged as he hurried on, with the rather clumsy gait which still bore +the faintest trace of the old shuffle Barrel Alley had known so well.</p> + +<p>Near the camp he ran plunk into Roy.</p> + +<p>"Hello," he said.</p> + +<p>"Hello," said Roy, and passed on.</p> + +<p>"Roy," Tom called after him, "I want to speak to you a minute."</p> + +<p>Roy paused.</p> + +<p>"I—I was thinking—do you smell smoke, Roy? It makes me think how we +used to rake up the leaves."</p> + +<p>Roy said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I understand the troop is going home tomorrow and some of you are going +in the <i>Good Turn</i>. I hope you'll have a fine trip—like when we came +up. I wish you could all stay longer. It makes me kind of homesick to +see you all go."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span></p> + +<p>"We might have stayed longer," said Roy, coldly, "only—is that all you +want to say to me?" he broke off.</p> + +<p>"I just want to say good-bye and——"</p> + +<p>"All right, good-bye," said Roy, and walked away.</p> + +<p>Tom watched him for a few seconds, then went on down to supper.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2><h3>THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN CROSS</h3> +</div> + +<p>The wind had become so strong that it was necessary to move the mess +boards around to the leeward side of the pavilion. Several fellows +remarked on the pungent odor which permeated the air and a couple who +had been stalking spoke of the woods fires over beyond Tannerstown.</p> + +<p>Garry was not at supper, nor the little sandy-haired fellow, but the +others of his patrol came down before the meal was over.</p> + +<p>"Guess we'll cut out yarns to-night," said Jeb Rushmore, "and hike out on +a little tour of inspection."</p> + +<p>"There are a couple of tramps in the woods this side of the cut, right +up the hill a ways," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"We need rain, that's sure," said another scout.</p> + +<p>"Maybe we'll get some with this wind," remarked another.</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon it's a dry wind," said Mr. Rushmore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> looking about and +sniffing audibly. "Gol smash it," he added, rising and sniffing still +louder. "Thar's somethin' in the air."</p> + +<p>For a minute he stood near his place, then strode off up the hill a +little way, among the trees, where he paused, listening, like an animal +at bay. They could see his dark form dimly outlined in the darker night.</p> + +<p>"J. R.'s on the scent," remarked Doc. Carson.</p> + +<p>Several fellows rose to join him and just at that minute Westy Martin, +of the Silver Foxes, and a scout from a Maryland troop who had been +stalking, came rushing pell-mell into camp.</p> + +<p>"The woods are on fire!" gasped Westy. "Up the hill! Look!"</p> + +<p>"I seed it," said Jeb. "The wind's bringin' it."</p> + +<p>"You can't get through up there," Westy panted. "We had to go around."</p> + +<p>"Ye couldn't get round by now. B'ys, we're a-goin' ter git it for sure. +It's goin' ter blow fire."</p> + +<p>For a moment he stood looking up into the woods, with the boys about +him, straining their eyes to see the patches of fire which were visible +here and there. Suddenly these patches seemed to merge and make the +night lurid with a red<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> glare, a perfect pandemonium of crackling and +roaring assailed the silent night and clouds of suffocating smoke +enveloped them.</p> + +<p>The fire, like some heartless savage beast, had stolen upon them +unawares and was ready to spring.</p> + +<p>Jeb Rushmore was calm and self-contained and so were most of the boys as +they stood ready to do his bidding.</p> + +<p>"Naow, ye see what I meant when I said a leopard's as sneaky as a fire," +said Jeb. "Here, you Bridgeboro troop and them two Maryland troops and +the troop from Washin't'n," he called, "you make a bucket line like we +practiced. Tom—whar's Tom? And you Oakwood b'ys, git the buckets out'n +the provish'n camp. Line up thar ri' down t' the water's edge and come +up through here. You fellers from Pennsylvany 'n' you others thar, git +the axes 'n' come 'long o' me. Don't git rattled, now."</p> + +<p>Like clockwork they formed a line from the lake up around the camp, +completely encircling it. The fire crept nearer every second, stifling +them with its pungent smoke. Other scouts, some with long axes, others +with belt axes, followed Jeb Rushmore, chopping down the small trees<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> +which he indicated along the path made by this human line. In less than +a minute fifty or more scouts were working desperately felling trees +along the path. Fortunately, the trees were small, and fortunately, too, +the scouts knew how to fell them so that they fell in each case away +from the path, leaving an open way behind the camp.</p> + +<p>Along this open way the line stood, and thus the full buckets passing +from hand to hand with almost the precision of machinery, were emptied +along this open area, soaking it.</p> + +<p>"The rest o' you b'ys," called Jeb, "climb up on the cabins—one on each +cabin, and three or four uv ye on the pavilion. Some o' ye stay below to +pass the buckets up. Keep the roofs wet—that's whar the sparks'll +light. Hey, Tom!"</p> + +<p>As the hurried work went on one of Garry's troop grasped Jeb by the arm. +"How about our cabin?" said he, fearfully. "There are two fellows up +there."</p> + +<p>Jeb paused a moment, but shook his head. "They'll hev ter risk jumpin' +int' th' cut," said he. "No mortal man c'u'd git to 'em through them +woods naow."</p> + +<p>The boy fell back, sick at heart as he thought of those two on the +lonely hill surrounded by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> flame and with a leap from the precipice as +their only alternative. It was simply a choice between two forms of +awful death.</p> + +<p>The fire had now swept to within a few yards of the outer edge of the +camp, but an open way had been cleared and saturated to check its +advance and the roofs of the shacks were kept soaked by a score or more +of alert workers as a precaution against the blowing sparks.</p> + +<p>Tom Slade had not answered any of Jeb's calls for him. At the time of +his chief's last summons he was a couple of hundred feet from the +buildings, tearing and tugging at one of the overflow tents. Like a +madman and with a strength born of desperation he dragged the pole down +and, wrenching the stakes out of the ground by main force, never +stopping to untie the ropes, he hauled the whole dishevelled mass free +of the paraphernalia which had been beneath it, down to the lake. Duffel +bags rolled out from under it, the uprooted stakes which came along with +it caught among trees and were torn away, the long clumsy canvas trail +rebelled and clung to many an obstruction, only to be torn and ripped as +it was hauled willy-nilly to the shore of the lake.</p> + +<p>In he strode, tugging, wrenching, dragging it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> after him. Part of it +floated because of the air imprisoned beneath it, but gradually sank as +it became soaked. Standing knee-deep, he held fast to one corner of it +and waited during one precious minute while it absorbed as much of the +water as it could hold.</p> + +<p>It was twice as heavy now, but he was twice as strong, for he was twice +as desperate and had the strength of an unconquerable purpose. The lips +of his big mouth were drawn tight, his shock of hair hung about his +stolid face as with bulldog strength and tenacity he dragged the dead +weight of dripping canvas after him up onto the shore. The water +trickled out of its clinging folds as he raised one side of the soaking +fabric, and dragged the whole mass up to the provision cabin.</p> + +<p>He seized the coil of lasso rope and hung it around his neck, then +raising the canvas, he pulled it over his head like a shawl and pinned +it about him with the steel clutch of his fingers, one hand at neck and +one below.</p> + +<p>Up through the blazing woods he started with the leaden weight of this +dripping winding sheet upon him and catching in the hubbly obstructions +in his path. The water streamed down his face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> and he felt the chill of +it as it permeated his clothes, but that was well—it was his only +friend and ally now.</p> + +<p>Like some ghostly bride he stumbled up through the lurid night, dragging +the unwieldly train behind him. Apparently no one saw this strange +apparition as it disappeared amid the enveloping flames.</p> + +<p>"Tom—whar's Tom?" called Jeb Rushmore again.</p> + +<p>Up the hill he went, tearing his dripping armor when it caught, and +pausing at last to lift the soaking train and wind that about him also.</p> + +<p>The crackling flames gathering about him like a pack of hungry wolves +hissed as they lapped against his wet shroud, and drew back, baffled, +only to assail him again. The trail was narrow and the flames close on +either side.</p> + +<p>Once, twice, the drying fabric was aflame, but he wrapped it under +wetter folds. His face was burning hot; he strove with might and main +against the dreadful faintness caused by the heat, and the smoke all but +suffocated him.</p> + +<p>On and up he pressed, stooping and sometimes almost creeping, for it was +easier near the ground. Now he held the drying canvas with his teeth +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> beat with his hands to extinguish the persistent flames. His power +of resistance was all but gone and as he realized it his heart sank +within him. At last, stooping like some sneaking thing, he reached the +sparser growth near the cut.</p> + +<p>Two boys who had been driven to the verge of the precipice and lingered +there in dread of the alternative they must take, saw a strange sight. A +dull gray mass, with two ghostly hands reaching out and slapping at it, +and a wild-eyed face completely framed by its charred and blackening +shroud, emerged from amid the fire and smoke and came straight toward +them.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" whispered the younger boy, drawing closer to Garry in +momentary fright at the sight of this spectral thing.</p> + +<p>"Don't jump—it's me—Tom Slade! Here, take this rope, quick. I guess it +isn't burned any. I meant to wet it, too," he gasped. "Is that tree +solid? I can't seem to see. All right, quick! I can't do it. Make a loop +and put it under his arms and let him down."</p> + +<p>There was not a minute to spare, and no time for explanations or +questions. Garry lowered the boy into the cut.</p> + +<p>"Now you'll have to let me down, I'm afraid,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> said Tom. "My hands are +funny and I can't—I can't go hand over hand."</p> + +<p>"That's easy," said Garry.</p> + +<p>But it was not so easy as it had been to lower the smaller boy. He had +to encircle the tree twice with the rope to guard against a too rapid +descent, and to smooth the precipice where the rope went over the edge +to keep it from cutting. When Tom had been lowered into the cut, Garry +himself went down hand over hand.</p> + +<p>It was cool down there, but they could hear the wild flames raging above +and many sparks descended and died on the already burned surface. The +air blew in a strong, refreshing draught through the deep gully, and the +three boys, hardly realizing their hair-breadth escape, seemed to be in +a different world, or rather, in the cellar of the world above, which +was being swept by that heartless roistering wind and fire.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Along through the cut they came, a dozen or more scarred and weary +scouts, their clothing in tatters, anxious and breathing heavily. They +had come by the long way around the edge of the woods and got into the +cut where the hill was low and the gully shallow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is anyone there?" a scout called, as they neared the point above which +Hero Cabin had stood. They knew well enough that no one could be left +alive above.</p> + +<p>"We're here," called Garry.</p> + +<p>"Hurt? Did you jump—both of you?"</p> + +<p>"Three, the kid and I and Tom Slade."</p> + +<p>"Tom Slade? How did <i>he</i> get here?"</p> + +<p>"Came up through the woods and brought us a rope. <i>We're</i> all right, but +he's played out. Got a stretcher?"</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>They came up, swinging their lanterns, to where Tom lay on the ground +with Garry's jacket folded under his head for a pillow, and they +listened soberly to Garry's simple tale of the strange, shrouded +apparition that had emerged from the flames with the precious life line +coiled about its neck.</p> + +<p>It was hard to believe, but there were the cold facts, and they could +only stand about, silent and aghast at what they heard.</p> + +<p>"We missed him," said one scout.</p> + +<p>"Is the camp saved?" asked Garry.</p> + +<p>"Mostly, but we had a stiff job."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about <i>our</i> job," said Doc Carson<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> as he stooped, holding +the lantern before Tom's blackened face and taking his wrist to feel the +pulse.</p> + +<p>Again there was silence as they all stood about and the little +sandy-haired fellow with the cough crept close to the prostrate form and +gazed, fascinated, into that stolid, homely face.</p> + +<p>And still no one spoke.</p> + +<p>"It means the gold cross," someone whispered.</p> + +<p>"Do you think the gold cross is good enough?" Garry asked, quietly.</p> + +<p>"It's the best we have."</p> + +<p>Then Roy, who was among them, kneeled down and put his arm out toward +Tom.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch my hand," said Tom, faintly. "It isn't that I don't want to +shake hands with you," he added. "I wanted to do that when I met +you—before supper. Only my hands feel funny—tingly, kind of—and they +hurt.</p> + +<p>"Any of my own patrol here?" he asked after a moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Connie Bennett's here—and Will Bronson."</p> + +<p>"Then I'd rather have them carry the stretcher, and I'd like for you to +walk along by me—I got something to say to you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span></p> + +<p>They did as he asked, the others following at a little distance, except +the little sandy-haired boy who persisted in running forward until Garry +called him back and kept his own deterring arm about the boy's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind my own patrol hearing—or you. I don't care about the gold +cross. It's only what it means that counts—sort of. I let Garry save +your brother, Will, because I knew he needed to stay longer—I knew +about that kid not being strong—that's all. I can go through water as +easy as I can through fire—it's—it's easier—if it comes to that."</p> + +<p>"Don't try to talk, Tom," said Roy, brokenly.</p> + +<p>"But I wouldn't tell even you, Roy, because—because if he'd found it +out he wouldn't think it was fair—and he wouldn't have taken it. That's +the kind of a fellow he is, Roy."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know what kind of a fellow he is," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, it's no matter now. You see yourself Hero Cabin is burned down. +A fellow might—he might even lose the cross. It's the three weeks that +counted—see?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see," said Roy.</p> + +<p>"And tomorrow I want to go back with you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> fellows in the <i>Good +Turn</i>—and see Mr. Temple. I want to ask him if that kid can stay with +Jeb 'till Christmas. Then I'll come back up to camp. I've thought a lot +lately about our trip up in the <i>Good Turn</i>, Roy."</p> + +<p>"Yes—so have I, Tom. But don't talk now. Doc doesn't want you to."</p> + +<p>"We've got to find Harry Stanton," said Tom, after a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Roy.</p> + +<p>But whether they ever did find him and the singular adventures attending +their quest, are really part of another story.</p> + +<p>THE END</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Tom Slade at Temple Camp, by Percy K. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/19522-h/images/illus-ch2.png b/19522-h/images/illus-ch2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d77e2a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/19522-h/images/illus-ch2.png diff --git a/19522-h/images/illus-map.png b/19522-h/images/illus-map.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d0c599 --- /dev/null +++ b/19522-h/images/illus-map.png diff --git a/19522.txt b/19522.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..53b27aa --- /dev/null +++ b/19522.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5367 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom Slade at Temple Camp, by Percy K. Fitzhugh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tom Slade at Temple Camp + +Author: Percy K. Fitzhugh + +Release Date: October 10, 2006 [EBook #19522] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP + +By +PERCY K. FITZHUGH + +Author of +THE TOM SLADE BOOKS +THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS +THE PEE-WEE HARRIS BOOKS + +Published with the approval of +THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA + +WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO. +RACINE, WISCONSIN + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + +Copyright, MCMXVII +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +Printed in the United States of America + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + +TABLE OF CONTENTS + + I. ROY'S SACRIFICE 1 + II. INDIAN SCOUT SIGN 10 + III. PEE-WEE AND MARY TEMPLE 19 + IV. TOM AND ROY 25 + V. FIRST COUP OF THE MASCOT 32 + VI. THE SHELTER 52 + VII. THE "GOOD TURN" 70 + VIII. BON VOYAGE! 79 + IX. THE MYSTERY 94 + X. PEE-WEE'S ADVENTURE 110 + XI. TRACKS AND TRAILING 124 + XII. THE LONG ARM OF THE SCOUT 136 + XIII. TEMPLE CAMP 150 + XIV. HERO CABIN 165 + XV. COWARD 177 + XVI. OSTRACIZED 188 + XVII. THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN CROSS 197 + +----------------------------------------------------------------------- + + + + +CHAPTER I + +ROY'S SACRIFICE + + +"Rejected by a large majority--I mean, elected by a large majority." + +Roy Blakeley gathered up the ballots in his two hands, dropped them into +the shoe box and pushed the box across the table to Mr. Ellsworth as if +the matter were finally settled. + +"Honorable Roy Blakeley," he added, "didn't even carry his own patrol." + +This humiliating confession, offered in Roy's gayest manner, was true. +The Silver Foxes had turned from their leader and, to a scout, voted for +Tom Slade. It was hinted that Roy himself was responsible for this, but +he was a good politician and would not talk. There was also a dark rumor +that a certain young lady was mixed up in the matter and it is a fact +that only the night before Roy and Mary Temple had been seen in earnest +converse on the wide veranda at Grantley Square by Pee-wee Harris, who +believed that a scout should be observant. + +Be this as it may, Tom had carried his own patrol, the Elks, +unanimously, and the Silver Foxes had voted for him like instructed +delegates, while among the proud and dignified Ravens there had been but +one dissenting vote. Someone had cast this for Pee-wee Harris, the +Silver Fox mascot and the troop's chief exhibit. But, of course, it was +only a joke. The idea of Pee-wee going away as assistant camp manager +was preposterous. Why, you could hardly see him without a magnifying +glass. + +"If this particular majority had been much larger," announced Roy, "it +wouldn't have been a majority at all; it would have been a unanimity." + +"A una _what_?" someone asked. + +"A unanimity--that's Latin for home run. Seems a pity that the only +thing that prevented a clean sweep was a little three-foot pocket +edition of a boy scout----" + +At this moment, Pee-wee, by a miracle of dexterity, landed a ball of +twine plunk in the middle of Roy's face. + +"Roy," laughed Mr. Ellsworth, "you're a good campaign manager." + +"He's a boss," shouted Pee-wee, "that's what he is. A boss is a feller +that has people elected and then makes them do what he says." + +"Well, you were glad enough to vote for him with the rest, weren't you?" +laughed the scoutmaster. + +And Pee-wee had to confess that he was. + +But there was no doubt that Roy had managed the whole thing, and if ever +political boss saw his fondest wishes realized Roy did now. + +"I think," said Mr. Ellsworth, "that it is up to Tom to deliver his +speech of acceptance." + +"Sure it is," said Westy Martin (Silver Fox). "We want to know his +policies. Is he going to favor the Elks or is he going to be neutral?" + +"Is he for troop first or camp first?" asked Doc. Carson (Raven and +First-aid scout). + +"Is Roy Blakeley going to come in for three or four helpings at mess +because he ran the campaign?" asked Connie Bennett, of the new Elks. + +"Speech, speech!" called Eddie Ingram, of the Silver Foxes. + +Tom looked uneasily at Mr. Ellsworth and on the scoutmaster's laughing +nod of encouragement arose. + +He was not at his best in a thing of this kind; he had always envied Roy +his easy, bantering manner, but he was not the one to shirk a duty, so +he stood up. + +He was about fifteen and of a heavy, ungraceful build. His hair was +thick and rather scraggly, his face was of the square type, and his +expression what people call stolid. He had freckles but not too many, +and his mouth was large and his lips tight-set. His face wore a +characteristic frown which was the last feeble trace of a lowering look +which had once disfigured it. Frowns are in the taboo list of the +scouts, but somehow this one wasn't half bad; there was a kind of rugged +strength in it. He wore khaki trousers and a brown flannel shirt which +was unbuttoned in front, exposing an expanse of very brown chest. + +For Tom Slade's virtues you will have to plow through these pages if you +have not already met him, but for his faults, they were printed all over +him like cities on a map. He was stubborn, rather reticent, sometimes +unreasonable, and carried with him that air of stolid self-confidence +which is apt to be found in one who has surmounted obstacles and risen +in spite of handicaps. It was often said in the troop that one never +knew how to take Tom. + +"I think Pee-wee is right," he said, "and I guess Roy managed this. I +could see he was doing some private wig-wag work, and I think you've all +been--what d'you call it--co-something or other----" + +"Coerced!" suggested Pee-wee. + +(Cries of "No, you're crazy!") + +"But as long as I'm elected I'll take the job--and I'm very thankful. I +won't deny I wanted it. Roy won't get any favors." (Cheers) "If I have +any deciding to do I'll decide the way I think is right. That's all I've +got to say--oh, yes, there's one thing more--one thing I made up my mind +to in case I was lucky enough to get elected." (Cries of "Hear, hear!") +"I'm not going to go by the railroad. I got an idea, like, that it +doesn't took right for a scout to go to camp by train. So I'm going to +hike it up to the camp. I'm going to start early enough so I can do it. +When a scout steps off a train he looks like a summer boarder. I ask Roy +to go with me if he can start when I do. I don't want you fellows to +think I was expecting to be chosen. I didn't let myself think about it. +But sometimes you can't help thinking about a thing; and the other +night I said to myself that if anything should happen I should get +elected----" + +(A voice, "You didn't do a thing but walk away with it, Tommy!") + +(Cries of "Shut up till he gets through!") + +"I wouldn't go to that camp in a train. I'm not going to set foot in it +till I'm qualified for a first-class scout, and I'm going to do the rest +of my stunts on the way. I want Roy to go with me if he can. I thank you +for electing me. I'll do my best in that job. If I knew how to say it, +I'd thank you better. I guess I'm kind of rattled." + +The blunt little speech was very characteristic of Tom and it was +greeted with a storm of applause. He had a way of blurting out his plans +and ideas without giving any previous hint of them, but this was +something of a knockout blow. + +"Oh, you hit it right!" shouted Pee-wee. "Gee, I do hate railroad +trains--railroad trains and homework." + +"You don't mean you're going to hike it from here, Tom, do you?" asked +Mr. Ellsworth. + +"I had an idea I might canoe up as far as Nyack," said Tom, "and then +follow the river up to Catskill Landing and hit in for Leeds--but, of +course," he added, "I didn't really expect to be elected." + +"Oh, crinkums!" shouted Pee-wee. "I'll go with you!" + +"Well," said Roy, when the laughter had subsided, "this is a new wrinkle +and it sounds rather risky for a half-baked Elk----" (Hisses from the +Elks) "So far as I'm concerned, I think a hike of a hundred miles or +so----" + +"You're crazy!" interrupted Pee-wee. "You silver-plated Fox----" + +"Is too much," concluded Roy. "In the first place, there would have to +be a whole lot of discomfort." (Hisses) "A fellow would be pretty sure +to get his feet wet." (Mr. Ellsworth restrained Pee-wee with +difficulty.) "He would have to sleep out of doors in the damp night +air----" (A voice, "Slap him on the wrist!") "And he would be likely to +get lost. Scouts, it's no fun to be lost in the woods----" (Cries of +"Yes, it is!") "We would be footsore and weary," continued Roy. + +"You got that out of a book!" shouted Pee-wee. "_Footsore and +weary_--that's the way folks talk in books!" + +"We might be caught in the rain," said Roy, soberly. "We might have to +pick our way along obscure trail or up steep mountains." + +"You ought to go and take a ride in a merry-go-round," cried Pee-wee, +sarcastically. + +"In short, it is fraught with peril," said Roy. + +"You got _that_ out of a book, too," said Pee-wee, disgustedly, +"_fraught with peril_!" + +"I think it is too much of an undertaking," said Roy, ignoring him. "We +can get round-trip tickets." + +Pee-wee almost fell off his chair. + +"But, of course," continued Roy, soberly, "a scout is not supposed to +think of himself--especially a Silver Fox. I am a Silver +Fox--sterling--warranted. A scout is a brother to every other scout. He +ought to be ready to make sacrifices." (Mr. Ellsworth began to chuckle.) + +"He ought not to stand by and see a fellow scout in danger. He ought not +to stand and see a poor Elk go headlong----" (Hisses) "He ought to be +ready with a good turn regardless of his own comfort and safety." (Hoots +and laughter) "I am ready with a good turn. I am ready to sac----" +(Jeers) "I am ready to sac----" (Jeers) "I am----" (Cries of "Noble +lad!") "I am ready to sac----" + +"Well, go ahead and _sac_, why don't you?" shouted Pee-wee in disgust. +"You're a hyp----" + +"Hip--hooray!" concluded several scouts. + +"You're a hyp--hyp--hypocrite!" Pee-wee managed to ejaculate amid the +tumult. + +"I am ready to sac----" + +"Oh, go on, sac and be done with it!" + +"I am ready to sacrifice myself for Tom Slade," finished Roy, +magnanimously. "Tom," he added, extending his hand across the table with +a noble air of martyrdom, "Tom, I will go with you!" + +The meeting broke up gaily, Mr. Ellsworth saying that he would certainly +communicate Roy's generous and self-sacrificing offer to National +Headquarters as a conspicuous instance of a memorable and epoch-making +good turn. + +"He gets my goat!" said Pee-wee to the scoutmaster. + +"I am very glad," said Mr. Ellsworth, soberly, "that our summer begins +with a good turn. The Silver Foxes should be proud of their unselfish +leader." Then he turned to Doc. Carson and winked the other eye. + +He was a great jollier--Mr. Ellsworth. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +[Transcriber's Note: An Indian scout sign drawing was inserted here.] + + +The old Indian scout sign, which is the title of this chapter, means +_There is nothing new along this trail and it brings you back to the +same place._ If you are already acquainted with Tom Slade and his +friends you will be safe in skipping this chapter but, otherwise, you +would better read it for it will tell you a little of Tom's past history +and of the other scouts with whom you are to become acquainted in this +volume. + +To know just how all this election business came about we must go back a +year or so to a time when Tom Slade was just a hoodlum down in Barrel +Alley and believed with all his heart that the best use a barrel stave +could be put to was to throw it into the Chinese laundry. He had heard +of the Boy Scouts and he called them "regiment guys" and had a +sophisticated contempt for them. + +Then all of a sudden, along had come Roy Blakeley, who had shown him +that he was just wasting good barrel staves; that you could make a +first-class Indian bow out of a barrel stave. Roy had also told him that +you can't smoke cigarettes if you expect to aim straight. That was an +end of the barrel as a missile and that was an end of _Turkish Blend +Mixture_--or whatever you call it. There wasn't any talk or +preaching--just a couple of good knockout blows. + +Tom had held that of all the joys in the mischievous hoodlum program +none was so complete as that of throwing chunks of coal through +streetcar windows at the passengers inside. Then along had come Westy +Martin and shown him how you could mark patrol signs on rocks with +chunks of coal--signs which should guide the watchful scout through the +trackless wilderness. Exit coal as a missile. + +In short, Tom Slade awoke to the realization not only that he was a +hoodlum, but that he was out of date with his vulgar slang and bungling, +unskilful tricks. + +Tom and his father had lived in two rooms in one of John Temple's +tenements down in Barrel Alley and John Temple and his wife and daughter +lived in a couple of dozen rooms, a few lawns, porches, sun-parlors and +things up in Grantley Square. And John Temple stood a better chance of +being struck by lightning than of collecting the rent from Bill Slade. + +John Temple was very rich and very grouchy. He owned the Bridgeboro +National Bank; he owned all the vacant lots with their hospitable "Keep +Out" signs, and he had a controlling interest in pretty nearly +everything else in town--except his own temper. + +Poor, lazy Bill Slade and his misguided son might have gone on living in +John Temple's tenement rent free until it fell in a heap, for though Mr. +Temple blustered he was not bad at heart; but on an evil day Tom had +thrown a rock at Bridgeboro's distinguished citizen. It was a random, +unscientific shot but, as luck would have it, it knocked John Temple's +new golf cap off into the rich mud of Barrel Alley. + +It did not hurt John Temple, but it killed the goose that laid the +golden eggs for the Slades. Mr. Temple's dignity was more than hurt; it +was black and blue. He would rather have been hit by a financial panic +than by that sordid missile from Barrel Alley's most notorious hoodlum. +Inside of three days out went the Slades from John Temple's tenement, +bag and baggage. + +There wasn't much baggage. A couple of broken chairs, a greasy +dining-table which Tom had used strategically in his defensive +operations against his father's assaults, a dented beer-can and a few +other dilapidated odds and ends constituted the household effects of the +unfortunate father and son. + +Bill Slade, unable to cope with this unexpected disaster, disappeared on +the day of the eviction and Tom was sheltered by a kindly neighbor, Mrs. +O'Connor. + +His fortunes were at the very lowest ebb and it seemed a fairly safe +prophesy that he would presently land in the Home for Wayward Boys, when +one day he met Roy Blakeley and tried to hold him up for a nickel. + +Far be it from me to defend the act, but it was about the best thing +that Tom ever did so far as his own interests were concerned. Roy took +him up to his own little Camp Solitaire on the beautiful lawn of the +Blakeley home, gave him a cup of coffee, some plum duff (Silver Fox +brand, patent applied for), and passed him out some of the funniest +slang (all brand new) that poor Tom had ever heard. + +That was the beginning of Tom's transformation into a scout. He fell for +scouting with a vengeance. It opened up a new world to him. To be sure, +this king of the hoodlums did not capitulate all at once--not he. He was +still wary of all "rich guys" and "sissies"; but he used to go down and +peek through a hole in the fence of Temple's lot when they were +practising their games. + +Mr. Ellsworth said nothing, only winked his eye at the boys, for he saw +which way the wind was blowing. Tom Slade, king of the hoodlums, had the +scout bug and didn't know it. + +Then, when the time was ripe, Mr. Ellsworth called him down into the +field one day for a try at archery. Tom scrambled down from the fence +and shuffled over to where the scouts waited with smiling, friendly +faces; but just at that moment, who should come striding through the +field but John Temple--straight for the little group. + +What happened was not pleasant. John Temple denounced them all as a gang +of trespassers, ordered them out of his field and did not hesitate to +express his opinion of Tom in particular. Mr. Ellsworth then and there +championed the poor fellow and prophesied that notwithstanding his past +the scouts would make a man of him yet. + +After that Tom Slade came out flat-footed and hit the scout trail. He +was never able to determine to whom he should be most grateful, Roy +Blakeley or Mr. Ellsworth, but it was the beginning of a friendship +between the two boys which became closer as time passed. + +There is no use retelling a tale that is told. Tom had such a summer in +camp as he had never dreamed of when he used to lie in bed till noontime +in Barrel Alley, and all that you shall find in its proper place, but +you must know something of how Temple Camp came into being and how it +came by its name. + +John Temple was a wonderful man--oh, he was smart. He could take care of +your property for you; if you had a thousand dollars he would turn it +into two thousand for you--like a sleight-of-hand performer. He could +tell you what kind of stocks to buy and when to sell them. He knew where +to buy real estate. He could tell you when wheat was going up or +down--just as if there were a scout sign to go by. He had everything +that heart could wish--and the rheumatism besides. + +But his dubious prophesy as to the future of Tom Slade, king of the +hoodlums, came out all wrong. Tom was instrumental in getting back a pin +which had been stolen from Mary Temple, and when her father saw the boy +after six months or so of scouting he couldn't have been more +surprised--not even if the Bridgeboro Bank had failed. + +Then poor old John Temple (or rich old John Temple) showed that he had +one good scout trait. He could be a good loser. He saw that he was all +wrong and that Mr. Ellsworth was right and he straightway built a +pavilion for the scouts in the beautiful woods where all the surprising +episodes of the summer which had opened his eyes had taken place. + +But you know as well as I do that a man like John Temple would never be +satisfied with building a little one-troop camping pavilion; not he. So +what should he do but buy a tract of land up in the Catskills close to a +beautiful sheet of water which was called Black Lake; and here he put up +a big open shack with a dozen or so log cabins about it and endowed the +whole thing as a summer camp where troops from all over the country +might come and find accommodations and recreation in the summer months. + +That was not all. Temple Camp was to be a school where scouting might be +taught (Oh, he was going to do the right thing, was old John Temple!), +and to that end he communicated with somebody who communicated with +somebody else, who got in touch with somebody else who went to some +ranch or other a hundred miles from nowhere in the woolly west and asked +old Jeb Rushmore if he wouldn't come east and look after this big scout +camp. How in the world John Temple, in his big leather chair in the +Bridgeboro Bank, had ever got wind of Jeb Rushmore no one was able to +find out. John Temple was a genius for picking out men and in this case +he touched high-water mark. + +Jeb Rushmore was furnished with passes over all John Temple's railroads +straight through from somewhere or other in Dakota to Catskill Landing, +and a funny sight he must have been in his flannel shirt and slouch hat, +sprawling his lanky limbs from the platforms of observation cars, +drawling out his pithy observations about the civilization which he had +never before seen. + +There are only two more things necessary to mention in this "side trail" +chapter. Tom's father bobbed up after the boy had become a scout. He was +a mere shadow of his former self; drink and a wandering life had all but +completed his ruin, and although Tom and his companions gave him a home +in their pleasant camp it was too late to help him much and he died +among them, having seen (if it were any satisfaction for him to see) +that scouting had made a splendid boy of his once neglected son. + +This brings us to the main trail again and explains why it was that Roy +Blakeley had held mysterious conferences with Mary Temple, and suggested +to all the three patrols that it would be a good idea to elect Tom to go +to Temple Camp to assist in its preparation and management. They had all +known that one of their number was to be chosen for this post and Roy +had hit on Tom as the one to go because he still lived with Mrs. +O'Connor down in Barrel Alley and had not the same pleasant home +surroundings as the other boys. + +A scout is thoughtful. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PEE-WEE AND MARY TEMPLE + + +Throughout the previous summer Tom had been in Roy's patrol, the Silver +Foxes, but when the new Elk Patrol was formed with Connie Bennett, the +Bronson boys and others, he had been chosen its leader. + +"I think it's just glorious," said Mary Temple, when Tom told her of his +plan and of Roy's noble sacrifice, "and I wish I was a boy." + +"Oh, it's great to be a boy," enthused Pee-wee. "Gee, that's one thing +I'm glad of anyway--that I'm a boy!" + +"Half a boy is better than all girl," taunted Roy. + +"_You're_ a model boy," added Westy. + +"And mother and father and I are coming up in the touring car in August +to visit the camp," said Mary. "Oh, I think it's perfectly lovely you +and Tom are going on ahead and that you're going to walk, and you'll +have everything ready when the others get there. Good-bye." + +Tom and Roy were on their way up to the Blakeley place to set about +preparing for the hike, for they meant to start as soon as they could +get ready. Pee-wee lingered upon the veranda at Temple Court swinging +his legs from the rubble-stone coping--those same legs that had made the +scout pace famous. + +"Oh, crinkums," he said, "they'll have _some_ time! Cracky, but I'd like +to go. You don't believe all this about Roy's making a _noble +sacrifice_, do you?" he added, scornfully. + +Mary laughed and said she didn't. + +"Because that isn't a good turn," Pee-wee argued, anxious that Mary +should not get a mistaken notion of this important phase of scouting. "A +good turn is when you do something that helps somebody else. If you do +it because you get a lot of fun out of it yourself, then it isn't a good +turn at all. Of course, Roy knows that; he's only jollying when he calls +it a good turn. You have to be careful with Roy, he's a terrible +jollier--and Mr. Ellsworth's pretty near as bad. Oh, cracky, but I'd +like to go with them--that's one sure thing. You think it's no fun being +a girl and I'll admit _I_ wouldn't want to be one--I got to admit that; +but it's pretty near as bad to be small. If you're small they jolly +you. And if I asked them to let me go they'd only laugh. Gee, I don't +mind being jollied, but I _would_ like to go. That's one thing you ought +to be thankful for--you're not small. Of course, maybe girls can't do so +many things as boys--I mean scouting-like--but--oh, crinkums," he broke +off in an ecstasy of joyous reflection. "Oh, crinkums, that'll be some +trip, _believe me_." + +Mary Temple looked at the diminutive figure in khaki trousers which sat +before her on the coping. It was one of the good things about Pee-wee +Harris that he never dreamed how much people liked him. + +"I don't know about that," said Mary. "I mean about a girl not being +able to do things--scouting things. Mightn't a girl do a good turn?" + +"Oh, sure," Pee-wee conceded. + +"But I suppose if it gave her very much pleasure it wouldn't be a good +turn." + +"Oh, yes, it might," admitted Pee-wee, anxious to explain the science of +good turns. "This is the way it is. If you do a good turn it's sure to +make you feel good--that you did it--see? But if you do it just for your +own pleasure, then it's not a good turn. But Roy puts over a lot of +nonsense about good turns. He does it just to make me mad--because I've +made a sort of study of them--like." + +Mary laughed in spite of herself. + +"He says it was a good thing when Tom threw a barrel stave in the +Chinese laundry because it led to his being a scout. But that isn't +logic. Do you know what logic is?" + +Mary thought she had a notion of what it was. + +"A thing that's bad can't be good, can it?" Pee-wee persisted. "Suppose +you should hit me with a brick----" + +"I wouldn't think of doing such a thing!" + +"But suppose you did. And suppose the scouts came along and gave me +first aid and after that I became a scout. Could you say you did me a +good turn by hitting me with a brick because that way I got to be a +scout? Roy--you got to be careful with him--you can't always tell when +he's jollying." + +Mary looked at him intently for a few seconds. "Well, then," said she, +"since you've made a study of good turns tell me this. If Roy and Tom +were to ask you to go with them on their long hike, would that be a good +turn?" + +"Sure it would, because it would have a sacrifice in it, don't you see?" + +"How?" + +"Because they'd do it just to please me--they wouldn't really want me." + +"Well," she laughed, "Roy's good at making sacrifices." + +"Je-ru-salem!" said Pee-wee, shaking his head almost incredulously at +the idea of such good fortune; "that'll be some trip. But you know what +they say, and it's true--I got to admit it's true--that two's a company, +three's a crowd." + +"It wouldn't be three," laughed Mary; "it would only be two and a half." + +She watched the sturdy figure as Pee-wee trudged along the gravel walk +and down the street. He seemed even smaller than he had seemed on the +veranda. And it was borne in upon her how much jollying he stood for and +how many good things he missed just because he _was_ little, and how +cheerful and generous-hearted he was withal. + +The next morning Roy received a letter which read: + +"Dear Roy--I want you and Tom to ask Walter Harris to go with you. +Please don't tell him that I asked you. You said you were going to name +one of the cabins or one of the boats for me because I took so much +interest. I'd rather have you do this. You can call it a good turn if +you want to--a real one. + +"MARY TEMPLE." + +Pee-wee Harris also received an envelope with an enclosure similar to +many which he had received of late. He suspected their source. This one +read as follows: + + If you want to be a scout, + You must watch what you're about, + And never let a chance for mischief pass. + You may win the golden cross + If your ball you gayly toss + Through the middle of a neighbor's pane of glass. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TOM AND ROY + + +The letter from Mary Temple fell on Camp Solitaire like a thunderbolt. +Camp Solitaire was the name which Roy had given his own cosy little tent +on the Blakeley lawn, and here he and Tom were packing duffel bags and +sharpening belt axes ready for their long tramp when the note from +Grantley Square was scaled to them by the postman as he made a short cut +across the lawn. + +"What do you know about that?" said Roy, clearly annoyed. "We can't take +_him_; he's too small. Who's going to take the responsibility? This is a +team hike." + +"You don't suppose he put the idea in her head, do you?" Tom asked. + +"Oh, I don't know. You saw yourself how crazy he was about it." + +"Pee-wee's all right," said Tom. + +"Sure he's all right. He's the best little camp mascot that ever +happened. But how are we going to take him along on this hike? And +what's he going to do when he gets there?" + +"He could help us on the troop cabin--getting it ready," Tom suggested. + +Roy threw the letter aside in disgust. "That's a girl all over," he +said, as he sulkily packed his duffel bag. "She doesn't think of what it +means--she just wants it done, that's all, so she sends her +what-d'you-call-it--edict. Pee-wee can't stand for a hundred and forty +mile hike. We'd have to get a baby carriage!" + +He went on with his packing, thrusting things into the depths of his +duffel bag half-heartedly and with but a fraction of his usual skill. +"You know as well as I do about team hikes. How can we fix this up for +three _now_? We've got everything ready and made all our plans; now it +seems we've got to cart this kid along or be in Dutch up at Temple's. +_He_ can't hike twenty miles a day. He's just got a bee in his dome that +he'd like----" + +"It _would_ be a good turn," interrupted Tom. "I was counting on a team +hike myself. I wanted to be off on a trip alone with you a while. I'm +disappointed too, but it _would_ be a good turn--it would be a peach of +a one, so far as that's concerned." + +"No, it wouldn't," contradicted Roy. "It would be a piece of blamed +foolishness." + +"He'd furnish some fun--he always does." + +"He'd furnish a lot of trouble and responsibility! Why can't he wait and +come up with the rest? Makes me sick!" Roy added, as he hurled the +aluminum coffee-pot out of a chair and sat down disgustedly. + +"_Now_, you see, you dented that," said Tom. + +"A lot _I_ care. Gee, I'd like to call the whole thing off--that's what +I'd like to do. I'd do it for two cents." + +"Well, I've got two cents," said Tom, "but I'm not going to offer it. +_I_ say, let's make the best of it. I've seen you holding your sides +laughing at Pee-wee. You said yourself he was a five-reel photoplay all +by himself." + +Roy drew a long breath and said nothing. He was plainly in his very +worst humor. He did not want Pee-wee to go. He, too, wanted to be alone +with Tom. There were plenty of good turns to be done without bothering +with this particular one. Besides, it was not a good turn, he told +himself. It would expose Walter Harris to perils---- Oh, Roy was very +generous and considerate of Walter Harris---- + +"If it's a question of good turns," he said, "it would be a better turn +to leave him home, where he'll be safe and happy. It's no good turn to +him, dragging him up and down mountains till he's so dog-tired he falls +all over himself--is it?" + +Tom smiled a little, but said nothing. + +"Oh, well, if that's the way you feel," said Roy, pulling the cord of +his duffel bag so tight that it snapped, "you and Pee-wee had better go +and I'll back out." + +"It ain't the way I feel," said Tom, in his slow way. "I'd rather go +alone with you. Didn't I say so? I guess Pee-wee thinks he's stronger +than he is. _I_ think he'd better be at home too and I'd rather he'd +stay home, though it's mostly just because I want to be alone with you. +Maybe it's selfish, but if it is I can't help it. I think sometimes a +feller might do something selfish and make up for it some other +way--maybe. But I don't think any feller's got a right to do something +selfish and then call it a good turn. I don't believe a long hike would +hurt Pee-wee. He's the best scout-pacer in your patrol. But I want to go +alone with you and I'd just as soon tell Mary so. I suppose it would be +selfish, but we'd just try to make up----" + +"Oh, shut up, will you!" snapped Roy. "You get on my nerves, dragging +along with your theories and things. _I_ don't care who goes or if +anybody goes. And you can go home and sleep for all I care." + +"All right," said Tom, rising. "I'd rather do that than stay here and +fight. I don't see any use talking about whether it's a good turn to +Pee-wee." (Roy ostentatiously busied himself with his packing and +pretended not to hear.) "I wasn't thinking about Pee-wee so much anyway. +It's Mary Temple that I was thinking of. It would be a good turn to her, +you can't deny that. Pee-wee Harris has got nothing to do with it--it's +between you and me and Mary Temple." + +"You going home?" Roy asked, coldly. + +"Yes." + +"Well, you and Pee-wee and Mary Temple can fix it up. I'm out of it." + +He took a pad and began to write, while Tom lingered in the doorway of +the tent, stolid, as he always was. + +"Wait and mail this for me, will you," said Roy. He wrote: + +"Dear Mary--Since you butted in Tom and I have decided that it would be +best for Pee-wee to go with _him_ and I'll stay here. Anyway, that's +what _I've_ decided. So you'll get your wish, all right, and I should +worry. + +"ROY." + +Tom took the sealed envelope, but paused irresolutely in the doorway. It +was the first time that he and Roy had ever quarrelled. + +"What did you say to her?" he asked. + +"Never mind what I said," Roy snapped. "You'll get your wish." + +"I'd rather go alone with you," said Tom, simply. "I told you that +already. I'd rather see Pee-wee stay home. I care more for you," he +said, hesitating a little, "than for anyone else. But I vote to take +Pee-wee because Mary wants--asks--us to. I wouldn't call it a good turn +leaving him home, and you wouldn't either--only you're disappointed, +same as I am. I wouldn't even call it much of a good turn taking him. We +can never pay back Mary Temple. It would be like giving her a cent when +we owed her a thousand. I got to do what I think is right--you--you made +me a scout. I--I got to be thankful to you if I can see straight. +It's--it's kind of--like a--like a trail--like," he blundered on. "There +can be trails in your mind, kind of. Once I chucked stones at Pee-wee +and swiped Mary's ball. Now I want to take him along--a little bit for +his sake, but mostly for hers. And I want to go alone with you for my +own sake, because--because," he hesitated, "because I want to be alone +with you. But I got to hit the right trail--you taught me that----" + +"Well, go ahead and hit it," said Roy, "it's right outside the door." + +Tom looked at him steadily for a few seconds as if he did not +understand. You might have seen something out of the ordinary then in +that stolid face. After a moment he turned and went down the hill and +around the corner of the big bank building, passed Ching Woo's laundry, +into which he had once thrown dirty barrel staves, picked his way +through the mud of Barrel Alley and entered the door of the tenement +where Mrs. O'Connor lived. He had not slept there for three nights. The +sound of cats wailing and trucks rattling and babies crying was not much +like the soughing of the wind in the elms up on the Blakeley lawn. But +if you have hit the right trail and have a good conscience you can +sleep, and Tom slept fairly well amid the din and uproar. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +FIRST COUP OF THE MASCOT + + +Anyway, he slept better than Roy slept. All night long the leader of the +Silver Foxes was haunted by that letter. The darkness, the breeze, the +soothing music of crickets and locusts outside his little tent +dissipated his anger, as the voices of nature are pretty sure to do, and +made him see straight, to use Tom's phrase. + +He thought of Tom making his lonely way back to Barrel Alley and going +to bed there amid the very scenes which he had been so anxious to have +him forget. He fancied him sitting on the edge of his cot in Mrs. +O'Connor's stuffy dining room, reading his Scout Manual. He was always +reading his Manual; he had it all marked up like a blazed trail. Roy got +small consolation now from the fact that he had procured Tom's election. +If Tom had been angry at him, his conscience would be easier now; but +Tom seldom got mad. + +In imagination he followed that letter to the Temple home. He saw it +laid at Mary's place at the dining table. He saw her come dancing in to +breakfast and pick it up and wave it gaily. He saw John Temple reading +his paper at the head of the table and advising with Mary, who was his +partner in the Temple Camp enterprise. He knew it was for her sake quite +as much as for the scouts that Mr. Temple had made this splendid gift, +and he knew (for he had dined at Grantley Square) just how father and +daughter conferred together. Why, who was it but Mary that told John +Temple there must be ten thousand wooden plates and goodness knows how +many sanitary drinking cups? Mary had it all marked in the catalogues. + +Roy pictured her as she opened the letter and read it,--that rude, +selfish note. He wondered what she would say. And he wondered what John +Temple would think. It would be such a surprise to her that poor little +Pee-wee was not wanted. + +In the morning Roy arose feeling very wretched after an all but +sleepless night. He did not know what he should do that day. He might go +up to Grantley Square and apologize, but you cannot, by apology, undo +what is done. + +While he was cooking his breakfast he thought of Pee-wee--Pee-wee who +was always so gay and enthusiastic, who worshipped Roy, and who "did not +mind being jollied." He would be ashamed to face Pee-wee even if that +redoubtable scout pacer were sublimely innocent of what had taken place. + +At about noon he saw Tom coming up the lawn. He looked a little +shamefaced as Tom came in and sat down without a word. + +"I--I was going to go down to see you," said Roy. "I--I feel different +now. I can see straight. I wish I hadn't----" + +"I've got a letter for you," said Tom, disinterestedly. "I was told to +deliver it." + +"You--were you at Temple's?" + +"There isn't any answer," said Tom, with his usual exasperating +stolidness. + +Roy hesitated a moment. Then, as one will take a dose of medicine +quickly to have it over, he grasped the envelope, tore it open, and +read: + +"Dear Mary--Since you butted in Tom and I have decided it would be best +for Pee-wee to go with _him_ and I'll stay home. Anyway, that's what +_I've_ decided. So you'll get your wish, all right, and I should worry. + +"ROY." + +He looked up into Tom's almost expressionless countenance. +"Who--told--you to deliver it--Tom?" + +"I told myself. You said you'd call the whole thing off for two cents. +But you ought not to expect me to pay the two cents----" + +"Didn't I put a stamp on it?" said Roy, looking at the envelope. + +"If you want to put a stamp on it now," said Tom, "I'll go and mail it +for you--but I--I didn't feel I cared to trust you for two cents--over +night." + +Through glistening eyes Roy looked straight at Tom, but found no +response in that dogged countenance. But he knew Tom, and knew what to +expect from him. "You old grouch," he shouted, running his hand through +Tom's already tousled and rebellious hair. "Why don't you laugh? So you +wouldn't trust me for two cents, you old Elk skinflint, wouldn't you. +Well, then, the letter doesn't get mailed, that's all, for I happen to +have only one stamp left and that's going to Pee-wee Harris. Come on, +get your wits to work now, and we'll send him the invitation in the form +of a verse, what d'you say?" + +He gave Tom such a push that even he couldn't help laughing as he +staggered against the tent-pole. + +"I'm no good at writing verse," said he. + +"Oh, but we'll jolly the life out of that kid when we get him away," +said Roy. + +It is a wise precept that where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be +wise. Pee-wee Harris never dreamed of the discussion that had taken +place as to his going, and he accepted the invitation with a glad heart. + +On the momentous morning when the trio set forth upon their journey, +Mary Temple, as glad as they, stood upon the steps at Grantley Square +and waved them a last good-bye. + +"Don't forget," she called, "we're coming up in the car in August to +visit you and see the camp and that dreadful Jeb or Job or Jib or +whatever you call him, who smokes a corn-cob pipe--ugh!" + +The last they saw of her was a girlish shrug of disgust at that strange +personage out of the West about whom (largely for her benefit) Roy and +others had circulated the most outlandish tales. Jeb Rushmore was +already ensconced in the unfinished camp, and from the few letters which +had come from him it was judged that his excursion east had not spoiled +him. One of these missives had been addressed to _Mister John Temple_ +and must have been a refreshing variation from the routine mail which +awaited Mr. Temple each morning at the big granite bank. It read: + + "Thar's a crittur come here to paint names o' animiles on the cabin + doors. I told him friendly sich wuzn't wanted, likewise no numbers. + He see it were best ter go. Bein' you put up th' money I would say + polite and likewise explain ez how the skins uv animiles is propper + fur signs an' not numbers bein' ez cabins is not railroad cars." + +This is a fair sample of the letters which were received by Mr. Temple, +by Mr. Ellsworth, and even at National Scout Headquarters, which Jeb +Rushmore called "the main ranch." + +The idea of putting the skin of a silver fox, for instance, on the +patrol's cabin instead of a painted caricature of that animal, took the +boys by storm, and to them at least Jeb Rushmore became a very real +character long before they ever met him. They felt that Jeb Rushmore had +the right idea and they were thrilled at the tragic possibilities of +that ominous sentence, "He see it were best to go." + +The whole troop was down at the boathouse to see the boys off. Tom and +Roy wore old khaki trousers and faded shirts which had seen service in +many a rough hike; their scarred duffel bags bore unmistakable signs of +hard usage, but Pee-wee was resplendent in his full regalia, with his +monogram burned in a complicated design into the polished leather of his +brand new duffel bag. His "trousseau," as the boys called it, was indeed +as complete and accurate as was possible. Even the scout smile, which is +not the least part of the scout make-up, was carried to a conspicuous +extreme; he smiled all over; he was one vast smile. + +"Don't fall off any mountains, Pee-wee." + +"Be sure to take your smile off when you go to bed." + +"If you get tired, you can jump on a train." + +"Pee-wee, you look as if you were posing for animal crackers." + +These were some of the flippant comments which were hurled at Pee-wee as +the three, in Roy's canoe, glided from the float and up the river on the +first stage of what was destined to be an adventurous journey. + +The river, along whose lower reaches Bridgeboro was situated, had its +source within a mile or two of the Hudson in the vicinity of Nyack. +From the great city it was navigable by power craft as far as Bridgeboro +and even above at full tide, but a mile or two above the boys' home town +it narrowed to a mere creek, winding its erratic way through a beautiful +country where intertwined and overarching boughs formed dim tunnels +through which the canoeist passed with no sound but the swishing of his +own paddle. The boys had never before canoed to the river's source, +though it was one of the things they had always been meaning to do. It +was a happy thought of Tom's to make it a part of their journey now and +strike into the roads along the Hudson in that way. + +"Oh, crinkums, I'm crazy to see Jeb Rushmore, aren't you?" said Pee-wee. +"I never thought I'd have a chance to go like this, I sure didn't! I +never thought you'd want me." + +"We couldn't do without you, kiddo," said Roy, as he paddled. "We +wouldn't have any luck--you're our lucky penny." + +"Cracky, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I got that +note. At first, I thought you must be jollying me--and even now it +doesn't seem real." + +The boys laughed. "Well, here you are, kiddo," said Roy, "so you see +it's real enough." + +"Do you suppose we'll have any adventures?" + +"Why, as the little boy said when he spilled the ink on the parlor +carpet, 'that remains to be seen.' We won't side-step any, you can be +sure of that." + +"There may be danger awaiting us," said Pee-wee. + +"Well, I only hope it'll wait till we get to it," Roy laughed. "What do +you say, kiddo, shall we hit it up for Nyack to-night or camp along the +river?" + +They decided to paddle leisurely, ending their canoe trip next day. +About dusk they made their camp on a steep, wooded shore, and with the +flame of their campfire reflected in the rippling water, Roy cooked +supper. + +Pee-wee was supremely happy. It is doubtful if he had ever before been +so happy. + +"There's one thing," said Tom, as he held the bacon over the flame. "I'm +going to do my first-class stunts before we get there." + +"And I'm going to do some tracking," said Roy; "here you go, Pee-wee, +here's a bacon sandwich--look out for the juice. This is what Daniel +Boone used to eat." He handed Pee-wee a sizzling slice of bacon between +two cakes of sweet chocolate! + +"Mmmmmmm," said Pee-wee, "that's scrumptious! Gee, I never knew +chocolate and bacon went so good together." + +"To-morrow for breakfast I'll give you a boiled egg stuffed with caraway +seeds," said Roy. + +"Give him a Dan Beard omelet," said Tom. + +"What's that?" asked Pee-wee, his two hands and his mouth running with +greasy chocolate. + +"Salt codfish with whipped cream," answered Roy. "Think you'd like it?" + +Pee-wee felt sure he would. + +"And there's one thing _I'm_ going to do," he said. "Tom's going to +finish his first-class stunts and you're going to do tracking. I'm going +to----" + +"Have another sandwich?" interrupted Roy. + +"Sure. And there's one thing I'm going to do. I'm going to test some +good turns. Gee, there isn't room enough to test 'em indoors." + +"Good for you," said Roy; "but you'd better trot down to the river now +and wash your face. You look like the end man in a minstrel show. Then +come on back and we'll reel off some campfire yarns." + +They sat late into the night, until their fire burned low and Roy +realized, as he had never before realized, what good company Pee-wee +was. They slept as only those know how to sleep who go camping, and +early in the morning continued their journey along the upper and +tortuous reaches of the narrowing river. + +Early in the spring there had been a serious flood which had done much +damage even down in Bridgeboro, and the three boys as they paddled +carefully along were surprised at the havoc which had been wrought here +on the upper river. Small buildings along the shore lay toppled over, +boats were here and there marooned high and dry many yards from the +shore, and the river was almost impassable in places from the +obstructions of uprooted trees and other debris. + +At about noon they reached a point where the stream petered out so that +further navigation even by canoe was impossible; but they were already +in the outskirts of West Nyack. + +"The next number on the program," said Roy, "is to administer first aid +to the canoe in the form of a burlap bandage. Pee-wee, you're appointed +chairman of the grass committee--pick some grass and let's pad her up." + +If you have never administered "first aid" to a canoe and "padded it up" +for shipment, let me tell you that the scout way of doing it is to bind +burlap loosely around it and to stuff this with grass or hay so that the +iron hook which is so gently wielded by the expressman may not damage +the hull. + +Having thus prepared it for its more prosaic return journey by train, +they left the boat on the shore and following a beaten path came +presently into the very heart of the thriving metropolis of West Nyack. + +"I feel as if we were Lewis and Clarke, or somebody, arriving at an +Indian village," said Pee-wee. + +At the express office Roy arranged for the shipment of the canoe back to +Bridgeboro, and then they started along the road toward Nyack. It was on +this part of their journey that something happened which was destined +materially to alter their program. + +They had come into the main street of the village and were heading for +the road which led to the Hudson when they came upon a little group of +people looking amusedly up into an elm tree on the lawn of a stately +residence. A little girl was standing beneath the tree in evident +distress, occasionally wringing her hands as she looked fearfully up +into the branches. Whatever was happening there was no joke to her, +however funny it might be to the other onlookers. + +"What's the matter?" Tom asked. + +"Bird up there," briefly answered the nearest bystander. + +"She'll never get it," said another. + +"Oh, now he's going away," cried the little girl in despair. + +The contrast between her anxiety and the amusement of the others was +marked. Every time she called to the bird it flitted to another limb, +and every time the bird flitted she wrung her hands and cried. An empty +cage upon a lawn bench told the story. + +"What's the matter?" said Pee-wee, going to the child and seeking his +information first-hand. + +"Oh, I'll never get him," she sobbed. "He'll fly away in a minute and +I'll never see him again." + +Pee-wee looked up into the branches and after some difficulty succeeded +in locating a little bird somewhat smaller than a robin and as green as +the foliage amid which it was so heedlessly disporting. + +"I see him," said Pee-wee. "Gee, don't you cry; we'll get him some way. +We're scouts, we are, and we'll get him for you." + +His reassuring words did not seem to comfort the girl. "Oh, there he +goes!" she cried. "Now he's going to fly away!" + +He did not fly away but merely flew to another limb and began to preen +himself. For so small a bird he was attracting a great deal of notice in +the world. Following Pee-wee's lead, others including Tom and Roy +ventured upon the lawn, smiling and straining their eyes to follow the +tantalizing movements of the little fugitive. + +"Of course," said Pee-wee to the girl, "it would be easy enough to shin +up that tree--that would be a cinch--anybody could do that--I mean any +_feller_--of course, a girl couldn't; but I'd only frighten him away." + +"You'll never get him," said one man. + +"What kind of a bird is it?" Tom asked. + +"It's a dwarf parrot," the girl sobbed, "and I'll never get him--never!" + +"You don't want to get discouraged," said Pee-wee. "Gee, there's always +some way." + +The spectators evidently did not agree with him. Some of them remained +about, smiling; others went away. The diminutive Pee-wee seemed to +amuse them quite as much as the diminutive parrot, but all were agreed +(as they continually remarked to each other) that the bird was a +"goner." + +"Is he tame?" Roy asked. + +"He was _getting_ tame," the girl sobbed, "and he was learning to say my +name. My father would give a hundred dollars--Oh," she broke off, "now +he _is_ going away!" She began to cry pitifully. + +Pee-wee stood a moment thoughtfully. "Have you got a garden hose?" he +presently asked. + +"Yes, but you're not going to squirt water at him," said the girl, +indignantly. + +"If you get the garden hose," said Pee-wee, "I'll bring him down for +you." + +"What are you going to do, kiddo?" Roy asked. + +"You'll see," said Pee-wee. + +The other boys looked at each other, puzzled. The girl looked half +incredulously at Pee-wee and something in his manner gave her a feeling +of hope. Most of the others laughed good-humoredly. + +They hauled the nozzle end of a garden hose from where it lay coiled +near a faucet in the stone foundation. Pee-wee took the nozzle and began +to play the stream against the trunk of the tree, all the while looking +up at the parrot. Presently, the bird began to "sit up and take notice," +as one might say. It was plainly interested. The bystanders began to +"sit up and take notice" too, and they watched the bird intently as it +cocked its head and listened. Pee-wee sent the stream a little higher up +the trunk and as he did so the bird became greatly excited. It began +uttering, in the modulated form consonant with its size, the discordant +squawk of the parrot. The little girl watched eagerly. + +"Get the cage," ordered Pee-wee. + +Roy brought it and laid it at his feet. The stream played a little +higher, and the bird chattered furiously and came lower. + +"Remind you of home?" Pee-wee asked, looking up and playing the water a +little higher. The bystanders watched, in silence. The bird was now upon +the lowest branch, chattering like mad and flapping its wings +frantically. The little girl, in an ecstasy of fresh hope, called to it +and danced up and down. + +But Pee-wee, like a true artist, neither saw nor heard his audience. He +was playing the bird with this line of water as an angler plays a fish. +And never was moth lured by a flame more irresistibly than this little +green fugitive was lured by the splashing of that stream. + +"Oh, can you catch him? Can you catch him?" pleaded the girl as she +clutched Pee-wee's arm. + +"Let go a minute," said Pee-wee. "Now, all stand back, here goes!" + +He shot the stream suddenly down at the base of the tree, holding the +nozzle close so that the plashing was loud and the spray diffused. And +as an arrow goes to its mark the bird came swooping down plunk into the +middle of the spray and puddle. Still playing the stream with one hand, +Pee-wee reached carefully and with his other gently encircled the little +drenched body. + +"Quite an adventure, wasn't it, Greenie?" he said. "Where'd you think +you were? In the tropics?---- If you ever want to take hold of a bird," +he added, turning to the girl, "hold it this way; make a ring out of +your thumb and first finger, and let his stomach rest on the palm of +your hand. Be sure your hand isn't cold, though. Here you are--that's +right." + +The girl could hardly speak. She stood with her dwarf parrot in her +hand, looking at the stream of water which was now shooting silently +through the grass and at the puddle which it had made, and she felt that +a miracle had been performed before her eyes. Roy, hardly less pleased +than she, stepped forward and turned off the water. + +"Good work," said a gentleman. "I've seen many a bird brought down, but +never in that fashion before." + +"_We_ don't use the other fashion," said Tom, with a touch of pride as +he put his hand on Pee-wee's shoulder. "Do we, kid?" + +"If it was a canary," said Pee-wee, "I might possibly have whistled him +down, but not near enough to catch him, I guess. But as soon as I knew +that bird came from the tropics, I knew he'd fall for water, 'cause a +tropical bird'll go where the sound of water is every time. I guess it's +because they have so many showers down there, or something. Then once I +heard that it's best to turn on the faucet when you're teaching a parrot +to talk. It's the sound of water. Did you get any water on you?" he +asked, suddenly turning to the child. + +There was no water on her clothing, but there was some in her eyes. + +"I--I--think you're wonderful," she said. "I think you are just +wonderful!" + +"'Twasn't me," said Pee-wee, "it was the water. Gee," he added +confidentially, "I often said I hated water, and I do hate a rainy day. +And if you get any water in a carburetor--_goo-od-night_! But I got to +admit water's good for some things." + +"Oh, I want you please to wait--just a few minutes--I want to go and +speak to my father," the girl said, as the boys started to move away. +They were the only ones left now. "Please wait just a minute." + +"We're on our way to Nyack," said Roy, suspecting her intention, "and +I'm afraid we've lost as much time as we dare. We've got to do a little +shopping there and our weather prophet here thinks we're going to have a +_real_ tropical shower before long." + +"But won't you let my father give you each--something? You've been so +good and it's--oh--it's just _wonderful_!" + +"Pee-wee, you're the doctor," said Roy. + +"I got to do a good turn every day," said the "doctor," "because we're +scouts and that's the rule. If we took anything for it, why, then it +wouldn't be a good turn. It would spoil all the fun. We're going on a +long hike, up the Hudson to our camp. We don't want to go near railroad +trains--and things like that. These fellows are taking me with them; +that's a good turn, but if somebody paid 'em to do it, it wouldn't be a +good turn, would it? I'm thankful to you and your parrot that you gave +me the chance. Now I don't have to think of a good turn again till +tomorrow. Besides I just happened to know about parrots and water so +it's no credit to me." + +That was it--he just happened to know! It was one of the dozens of +things that he "just happened to know." How he came by the knowledge was +a mystery. But perhaps the best thing he knew was that a service is a +service and that you knock it in the head as soon as you take payment +for it. + +The girl watched them, as they jumped the hedge, laughing gaily at +Pee-wee's clumsiness and, waving their hats to her, took their belated +way along the road. + +It was not the most popular way of bringing down a bird, but there was +no blood on Pee-wee's hands, and it was a pretty good stunt at that! + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE SHELTER + + +"Pee-wee, you're a wonder," said Roy. "You're the only original Boy +Scout; how did you get next to that stunt? What do you think of him, +Tom?" + +"Some wrinkle," said Tom. + +"Crinkums!" said Pee-wee. "I'm mighty glad I got him. If it hadn't +succeeded I'd have felt cheap, sure; but when you're dealing with a +girl, you always want to act as if you're sure of yourself. Do you know +why?" + +"Can't imagine," said Roy. "Break it to us gently." + +"Because girls are never sure of themselves and they'll never take much +stock in what you say unless you seem to be sure of yourself. That's one +thing I've noticed. I've made a study of girls, kind of---- And you're +more apt to succeed if there's a girl watching you--did you ever notice +that?" + +Roy laughed. + +"It's so," urged Pee-wee. "And there's another thing about girls, too; +they're repulsive." + +"What?" said Tom. + +"_What?_" said Roy. + +"They say the first thing that comes into their heads." + +"_Im_pulsive, you mean," laughed Roy. + +"Well, they're all right on good turns," said Tom. + +"They don't have any good turns in the Camp Fire Girls," said Pee-wee. + +"A girl might do a good turn and you'd never know anything about it," +said Tom, significantly. + +"Cracky," said Pee-wee, "she was tickled to get that bird back." + +In a little while they were tramping along the main street of Nyack, +heading for the lordly Hudson. It was almost twilight, the shops were +shutting their doors, and as they came around the hill which brought +them face to face with the river, the first crimson glow of sunset fell +upon the rippling current. Across the wide expanse, which seemed the +wider for the little winding stream they had so lately followed, the +hills were already turning from green to gray and tiny lights were +visible upon the rugged heights. A great white steamer with its light +already burning was plowing majestically upstream and the little open +craft at the shore rocked in the diminishing ripples which it sent +across the water, as though bowing in humble obeisance to it. + +"Gee, it's lonely, isn't it!" said Pee-wee. + +"Not getting homesick, are you, kiddo?" + +"No, but it seems kind of lonesome. I'm glad there's three of us. Oh, +jiminy, look at those hills." + +The scene was indeed such as to make the mightiest man feel +insignificant. + +The map showed a road which led to Haverstraw, and this the boys decided +to follow until they should find a convenient spot in which to bivouac +for the night. It followed the Hudson, sometimes running along the very +brink with the mighty highlands rising above it and sometimes running +between hills which shut the river from their view. + +"Hark," said Tom. "What did I tell you! Thunder!" + +A low, distant rumble sounded, and as they paused in the gathering +darkness, listening, a little fitful gust blew Pee-wee's hat off. + +"We're going to get a good dose of it," said Tom. "I've been smelling it +for the last hour; look at those trees." + +The leaves were blowing this way and that. + +"We should worry," said Roy. "Didn't I tell you we might have to get our +feet wet? This is a risky bus----" + +"Shut up!" said Pee-wee. + +They had walked not more than a quarter of a mile more when they came +upon a stretch of road which was very muddy, with a piece of lowland +bordering it. It was too dark to see clearly, but in the last remnant of +daylight the boys could just distinguish a small, peculiar looking +structure in the middle of this vast area. + +"That's a funny place to build a house," said Roy. + +"Maybe it's a fisherman's shack," Tom suggested. + +Whatever it was, it was a most isolated and lonesome habitation, +standing in the centre of that desert flat, shut in by the precipitous +hills. + +"It would be a good place for a hermit," said Roy. "You don't suppose +anyone lives there, do you?" + +"Cracky, wouldn't you like to be a hermit! Do you know what I'd like to +have now----" + +"An umbrella," interrupted Tom. + +The remark, notwithstanding that it shocked Pee-wee's sense of fitness, +inasmuch as they were scouting and "roughing it," was not inappropriate, +for even as Tom spoke the patter of great drops was heard. + +"Maybe it's been raining here this afternoon," observed Tom, "and that's +what makes all this mud." + +"Well, it's certainly raining here now," said Roy. "Me for that shack!" + +The rain suddenly came down in torrents and the boys turned up their +collars and made a dash across the marshy land toward the shadowy +structure. Roy reached it first and, turning, called: "Hey, fellows, +it's a boat!" + +The others, drenched, but laughing, followed him, scrambling upon the +deck and over the combing into the cockpit of a dilapidated cabin +launch. + +"What do you know about that!" said Roy. "Strike a light and let's see +where we're at. I feel like a wet dish rag." + +Presently Pee-wee's flashlight was poking its bright shaft this way and +that as they looked curiously about them. They were in a neglected and +disheveled, but very cosy, little cabin with sleeping lockers on either +side and chintz curtains at the tiny portholes. A two-cylinder engine, +so rusted that the wheel wouldn't turn over and otherwise in a dubious +condition, was ineffectually covered by a piece of stiff and rotten oil +cloth, the floor was cluttered with junk, industrious spiders had woven +their webs all about and a frantic scurrying sound told of the hurried +departure of some little animal which had evidently made its home in the +forsaken hull. + +"Oh, but this is great!" enthused Pee-wee. "This is the kind of an +adventure you read about; _now_ our adventures have really started." + +"It'll be more to the purpose if we can get our supper really started," +said Roy. + +"How do you suppose it got here?" Pee-wee asked. + +"That's easy," said Tom. "I didn't realize it before, but the tide must +come up over the road sometimes and flood all this land here. That's +what makes the road muddy. There must have been a good high tide some +time or other, and it brought the boat right up over the road and here +it is, marooned." + +"Maybe it was the same flood that did all the damage down our way," Roy +said. "Well, here goes; get the things out, Pee-wee, and we'll have some +eats. Gee, it's nice in here." + +It _was_ nice. The rain pattered down on the low roof and beat against +the little ports; the boat swayed a little in the heavier gusts of wind +and all the delightful accompaniments of a life on the ocean wave were +present--except the peril. + +"You get out the cooking things," said Roy, "while I take a squint +around and see if I can find something to kindle a fire in." + +He did not have to go far. Sliding open the little hatch, he emerged +into the cockpit, where the wind and rain smote him mercilessly. The +storm had grown into a tempest and Roy wondered how it would be out on +the wide river on such a night. In the cockpit was nothing but the +shredded remnant of a sun awning and a couple of camp chairs, but a few +feet from the boat something on the mushy ground cast a faint glimmer, +and on going to it he found it to be a battered five-gallon gasoline +can, which he brought back in triumph. By this time Tom and Pee-wee had +the camp lamp burning and the supper things laid out. It was a very cosy +scene. + +"See if there's a Stillson wrench in that locker," said Roy. + +Among the rusted tools was a "Stillson," and with this Roy disconnected +the exhaust pipe from the engine. He next partly "jabbed" and partly cut +a hole in the gasoline can of about the circumference of the pipe. A +larger hole in the side of the can sufficed for a door and he squeezed +the end of the exhaust pipe into the hole he had made for it, and +presto! there was a very serviceable makeshift stove with the exhaust +system of the engine converted into a draught and chimney. + +"The new patent Silver Fox cooking stove," said Roy. "A scout is +resourceful. This beats trying to kindle a fire outside, a night like +this. Chuck that piece of wood over here." + +There was an old battery box knocking about and this Roy whittled into +shavings, while the others with their belt axes completed the ruin of +the awning stanchions by chopping them into pieces a few inches long. + +"Guess they weren't good for much," observed Tom. + +"Oh," said Pee-wee, "I'd just like to live in this boat." + +It was no wonder he felt so. With the fire burning brightly in the old +can and sending its smoke out through the boat's exhaust, the smell of +the bacon cooking, the sight of their outer garments drying in the +cheery warmth, while the wind howled outside and the rain beat down upon +the low roof the situation was not half bad and an occasional lurch of +the old hull gave a peculiar charm to their odd refuge. + +"Could you dally with a rice cake, kiddo?" asked Roy, as he deftly +stirred up some rice and batter. "Sling me that egg powder, Tom, and +give me something to stir with--not that, you gump, that's the fever +thermometer!" + +"Here's a fountain pen," said Pee-wee; "will that do?" + +"This screw-driver will be better," said Roy. "Here, kiddo, make +yourself useful and keep turning that in the pan. You're a specialist on +good turns." + +Pee-wee stirred, while Tom attended to the fire, and Roy to the cooking. +And I might mention on the side that if you should happen to be marooned +in a disused boat on a blustering night, and are ingenious enough (as +Roy was) to contrive the cooking facilities, you cannot do better than +flop a few rice cakes, watching carefully that they don't burn. You can +flop them with a shoe horn if you've nothing better at hand. + +They spread their balloon silk tent in the cockpit, holding fast to the +corners until enough water had fallen into it to fill the coffee-pot, +and they had three such cups of coffee as you never fancied in your +fondest dreams. + +For dessert they had "Silver Fox Slump," an invention of Roy's made with +chocolate, honey and, I think, horse-radish. It has to be stirred +thoroughly. Pee-wee declared that it was such a _table d'hote_ dinner as +he had never before tasted. He was always partial to the scout style of +cooking and he added, "You know how they have music at _table d'hote_ +dinners. Well, this music's got it beat, that's one sure thing. Gee, +I'll hate to leave the boat, I sure will." + +The boisterous music gave very little prospect of ceasing, and after the +three had talked for an hour or so, they settled down for the night, two +on the lockers and one on the floor, with the wind still moaning and the +rain coming down in torrents. + +When they awoke in the morning the wind had died down somewhat, but it +still blew fitfully out of the east and the rain had settled down into +a steady drizzle. Tom ventured out into the cockpit and looked about +him. The hills across the river were gray in the mist and the wide +expanse of water was steel color. He could see now that there was +another road close under the precipitous cliffs and that the one which +divided this lowland from the river was almost awash. Through the mist +and drizzle along this higher road came a man. He left the road and +started to pick his way across the flat, hailing as he came. The three +boys awaited him in the cockpit. + +"Don't nobody leave that boat!" he called, "or I'll shoot." + +"Dearie me," said Roy. "He seems to be peeved. What are we up against, +anyway?" + +"Don't shoot, mister," called Tom. "You couldn't drag us out of here +with a team of horses." + +"Tell him we are Boy Scouts and fear naught," whispered Pee-wee. "Tell +him we scorn his--er--what d'you call it?" + +"Hey, mister," called Roy. "We are Boy Scouts and fear naught, and we +scorn your what-d'you-call it." + +"Haouw?" called the man. + +"What's that he's got on?" said Tom, "a merit badge?" + +"It's a cop's badge," whispered Pee-wee. "Oh, crinkums, we're pinched." + +The man approached, dripping and breathing heavily, and placed his hands +on the combing. + +"Anybody here 'sides you youngsters?" he demanded, at the same time +peering inside the cabin. + +"A few spiders," said Tom. + +"Whatcher doin' here, anyway?" + +"We're waiting for the storm to hold up," said Roy; "we beat it from +that road when----" + +"We sought refuge," Pee-wee prompted him. + +"Any port in a storm, you know," Roy smiled. "Are we pinched?" + +The man did not vouchsafe an immediate answer to this vital query. +Instead he poked his head in, peered about and then said, "Don' know's +ye are, not fur's I'm concerned. I'd like to hev ye answer me one +question honest, though." + +"You'll have to answer one for us first," called Roy, who had +disappeared within the little cabin. "Do you take two lumps of sugar in +your coffee?" + +The man now condescended to smile, as Roy brought out a steaming cup and +handed it to him. + +"Wall, ye've got all the comforts uv home, ain't ye?" + +"Give him a rice cake," whispered Pee-wee in Roy's ear. "He's all +right." + +"Won't you come in?" said Roy. "I don't know whose boat this is, but +you're welcome. I guess we didn't do any damage. We chopped up a couple +of broken stanchions, that's all." + +"I guess we'll let ye off without more'n ten year uv hard labor," said +the man, sipping his coffee. "But I'll give ye a tip. Get away from here +as soon's ye can,--hear? Old man Stanton owns this boat an' he's a bear. +He'd run ye in fer trespass and choppin' up them stanchions quick as a +gun. Ye come oft'n that outer road, ye say? Strangers here?" + +"I can see now that road is flooded," said Tom. "Guess it isn't used, is +it?" + +"This is all river land," said the man. "In extra high tides this here +land is flooded an' the only ones usin' that thar road is the fishes. +This rain keeps up another couple of days an' we get a full moon on top +o' that the old hulk'll float, by gol! Ye didn't see no men around here +last night now, did ye?" + +"Not a soul," said Roy. + +"'Cause there was a prisoner escaped up yonder last night an' when I see +the smoke comin' out o' yer flue contraption here I thought like enough +he hit this shelter." + +"Up yonder?" Tom queried. + +"You're strangers, hey?" the man repeated. + +"We're on a hike," said Tom. "We're on our way to Haverstraw and----" + +"Thence," prompted Pee-wee. + +"_Thence_ to Catskill Landing, and _thence_ to Leeds and _thence_ to +Black Lake," mocked Roy. + +"Well, thar's a big prison up yonder," said the man. + +"Oh, Sing Sing?" Roy asked. "I never thought of that." + +"Feller scaled the wall last night an' made off in a boat." + +The boys were silent. They had not realized how close they were to +Ossining, and the thought of the great prison whose name they had often +heard mentioned sobered them a little; the mere suggestion of one of its +inmates scaling its frowning wall on such a night and setting forth in +an open boat, perhaps lurking near their very shelter, cast a shadow +over them. + +"Are you--are you _sure_ you didn't see a--a crouching shadow when you +went out and got that gasoline can last night?" Pee-wee stammered. + +"I'm sorry," said Roy, "but I didn't see one crouching shadow." + +"His boat might have upset in the storm," Tom suggested. "The wind even +shook this boat; it must have been pretty rough out on the river." + +"Like enough," said the man. "Des'pret characters'll take des'pret +chances." + +"What did he do?" Pee-wee asked, his imagination thoroughly aroused. + +"Dunno," said the man. "Burglary, like enough. Well now, you youngsters +have had yer shelter'n the wust o' the storm's over. It's goin' ter keep +right on steady like this till after full moon, an' the ole shebang'll +be floppin' roun' the marsh like enough on full moon tide. My advice to +you is to git along. Not that you done no damage or what _I'd_ call +damage--but it won't do no good fer yer to run amuck o' Ole Man Stanton. +'Cause he's a reg'lar grizzly, as the feller says." + +The boys were silent a moment. Perhaps the thought of that desperate +convict stealing forth amid the wind and rain still gripped them; but it +began to dawn upon them also that they had been trespassing and that +they had taken great liberties with this ramshackle boat. + +That the owner could object to their use of it seemed preposterous. That +he could take advantage of the technical "damage" done was quite +unsupposable. But no one knows better than a boy how many "grouchy" men +there are in the world, and these very boys had once been ordered out of +John Temple's lot with threat and menace. + +"Does _everybody_ call him 'Old Man' Stanton?" Pee-wee asked. "Because +if they do that's pretty bad. Whenever somebody is known as 'Old Man' it +sounds pretty bad for him. They used to say 'Old Man Temple'--he's a man +we know that owns a lot of railroads and things; of course, he's +reformed now--he's a magnet----" + +"Magnate," corrected Roy. + +"But they _used_ to call him 'Old Man Temple'--everybody did. And it's a +sure sign--you can always tell," Pee-wee concluded. + +"Wall, they call _me_ 'Ole Man Flint,'" said the visitor, "so I +guess----" + +"Oh, of course," said Pee-wee, hastily, "I don't say it's always so, and +besides you're a--a----" + +"Sheriff," Mr. Flint volunteered. + +"So you got to be kind of strict--and--and grouchy--like." + +The sheriff handed his empty cup to Roy and smiled good-naturedly. + +"Where does Old Man Stanton live?" asked Tom, who had been silent while +the others were talking. + +"'Long the Nyack road, but he has his office in Nyack--he's a lawyer," +said the visitor, as he drew his rubber hat down over his ears. + +"Can we get back to Nyack by that other road?" + +"Whatcher goin' to do?" + +"We'll have to go and see Old Man Stanton," Tom said, "then if we don't +get pinched we'll start north." + +Mr. Flint looked at him in astonishment. + +"I wouldn't say we've done any damage," said Tom in his stolid way, "and +I believe in that about any port in a storm. But if he's the kind of a +man who would think different, then we've got to go and tell him, that's +all. We can pay him for the stanchions we chopped up." + +"Wall, you're a crazy youngster, that's all, but if yer sot on huntin' +fer trouble, yer got only yerself to blame. Ye'll go before a justice uv +the peace, the whole three uv year, and be fined ten dollars apiece, +likely as not, an' I don't believe ye've got twenty-five dollars between +the lot uv yer." + +"Right you are," said Roy. "We are poor but honest, and we spurn--don't +we, Pee-wee?" + +"Sure we do," agreed Pee-wee. + +"Poverty is no disgrace," said Roy dramatically. + +The man, though not overburdened with a sense of humor, could not help +smiling at Roy and he went away laughing, but scarcely crediting their +purpose to venture into the den of "Old Man Stanton." "They're a queer +lot," he said to himself. + +Within a few minutes the boys had gathered up their belongings, repacked +their duffel bags and were picking their way across the marsh toward the +drier road. + +"We're likely to land in jail," said Pee-wee, mildly protesting. + +"It isn't a question of whether we land in jail or not," said Tom, +stolidly; "it's just a question of what we ought to do." + +"_We_ should worry," said Roy. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE "GOOD TURN" + + +It was a draggled and exceedingly dubious-looking trio that made their +way up the main street of Nyack. They had no difficulty in finding the +office of "Old Man Stanton," which bore a conspicuous sign: + + WILMOUTH STANTON + COUNSELLOR AT LAW + +"He'd--he'd have to get out a warrant for us first, wouldn't he?" +Pee-wee asked, apprehensively. + +"That'll be easy," said Roy. "If all goes well, I don't see why we +shouldn't be in Sing Sing by three o'clock." + +"We're big fools to do this," said Pee-wee. "A scout is supposed to +be--cautious." But he followed the others up the stairs and stepped +bravely in when Tom opened the door. + +They found themselves in the lion's den with the lion in close +proximity glaring upon them. He sat at a desk opening mail and looked +frowningly at them over his spectacles. He was thin and wiry, his gray +hair was rumpled in a way which suggested perpetual perplexity or +annoyance, and his general aspect could not be said to be either +conciliatory or inviting. + +"Well, sir," he said, crisply. + +"Are you Mr. Stanton?" Tom asked. "We are Scouts," he added, as the +gentleman nodded perfunctorily, "and we came from Bridgeboro. We're on +our way to camp. Last night we got caught in the rain and we ran----" + +"Took refuge," whispered Pee-wee. + +"For that old boat on the marsh. This morning we heard it was yours, so +we came to tell you that we camped in it last night. We made a fire in a +can, but I don't think we did any harm, except we chopped up a couple of +old stanchions. We thought they were no good, but, of course, we +shouldn't have taken them without leave." + +Mr. Stanton stared at him with an ominous frown. "Built a fire in a +can?" said he. "Do you mean in the boat?" + +"We used the exhaust for a draught," said Roy. + +"Oh--and what brings you here?" + +"To tell you," said Tom, doggedly. "A man came and told us you owned the +boat. He said you might have us arrested, so we came to let you know +about what we did." + +"We didn't come because we wanted to be arrested," put in Pee-wee. + +"I see," said Mr. Stanton, with the faintest suggestion of a smile. +"Isn't it something new," he added, "running into the jaws of death? +Boys generally run the other way and don't go hunting for trouble." + +"Well, I'll tell you how it is," said Pee-wee, making the conversation +his own, somewhat to Roy's amusement. "Of course, a scout has got to be +cautious--but he's got to be fearless too. I was kind of scared when I +heard you were a lawyer----" + +Mr. Stanton's grim visage relaxed into an unwilling, but unmistakable, +smile. + +"And another thing I heard scared me, but----" + +Tom, seeing where Pee-wee was drifting, tried to stop him, but Roy, +knowing that Pee-wee always managed to land on top, and seeing the smile +on Mr. Stanton's forbidding countenance, encouraged him to go on, and +presently the mascot of the Silver Foxes was holding the floor. + +"A scout has to deduce--that's one of the things we learn, and if you +heard somebody called 'Old Man Something-or-other,' why, you'd deduce +something from it, wouldn't you? And you'd be kind of scared-like. But +even if you deduce that a man is going to be mad and gruff, kind of, +even still you got to remember that you're a scout and if you damaged +his property you got to go and tell him, anyway. You got to go and tell +him even if you go to jail. Don't you see? Maybe you don't know much +about the scouts----" + +"No," said Mr. Stanton, "I'm afraid I don't. But I'm glad to know that I +am honored by a nickname--even so dubious a one. Do you think you were +correct in your deductions?" he added. + +"Well, I don't know," began Pee-wee. "I can see--well, anyway there's +another good thing about a scout--he's got to admit it if he's wrong." + +Mr. Stanton laughed outright. It was a rusty sort of laugh, for he did +not laugh often--but he laughed. + +"The only things I know about Boy Scouts," said he, "I have learned in +the last twenty-four hours. You tell me that they can convert an +exhaust pipe into a stove flue, and I have learned they can bring a +bird down out of a tree without so much as a bullet or a stone (I have +to believe what my little daughter tells me), and that they take the +road where they think trouble awaits them on account of a +principle--that they walk up to the cannon's mouth, as it were--I am a +very busy man and no doubt a very hard and disagreeable one, but I can +afford to know a little more about these scouts, I believe." + +"I'll tell you all about them," said Pee-wee, sociably. "Jiminys, I +never dreamed you were that girl's father." + +Mr. Stanton swung around in his chair and looked at him sharply. "Who +are you boys?" + +"We came from Bridgeboro in New Jersey," spoke up Roy, "and we're going +up the river roads as far as Catskill Landing. Then we're going to hit +inland for our summer camp." + +Mr. Stanton was silent for a few moments, looking keenly at them while +they stood in some suspense. + +"Well," he said, soberly, "I see but one way out of the difficulty. The +stanchions you destroyed were a part of the boat. The boat is of no use +to me without them. I suggest, therefore, that you take the boat along +with you. It belonged to my son and it has been where it now lies ever +since the storm in which his life was lost. I have not seen the inside +of it since--I do not want to see the inside of it," he added brusquely, +moving a paperweight about on his desk. "It is only three years old," he +went on after a moment's uncomfortable pause, "and like some people it +is not as bad as it looks." + +The boys winced a little at this thrust. Mr. Stanton was silent for a +few moments and Pee-wee was tempted to ask him something about his son, +but did not quite dare to venture. + +"I think the boat can very easily be removed to the river with a little +of the ingenuity which you scouts seem to have, and you may continue +your journey in her, if you care to. You may consider it a--a present +from my daughter, whom you made so happy yesterday." + +For a moment the boys hardly realized the meaning of his words. Then Tom +spoke. + +"We have a rule, Mr. Stanton, that a scout cannot accept anything for a +service. If he does, it spoils it all. It's great, your offering us the +boat and it seems silly not to take it, but----" + +"Very well," said Mr. Stanton, proceeding to open his letters, "if you +prefer to go to jail for destroying my stanchions, very well. Remember +you are dealing with a lawyer." Roy fancied he was chuckling a little +inwardly. + +"That's right," said Pee-wee in Tom's ear. "There's no use trying to get +the best of a lawyer--a scout ought to be--to be modest; we better take +it, Tom." + +"There's a difference between payment for a service and a token of +gratitude," said Mr. Stanton, looking at Tom. "But we will waive all +that. I cannot allow the Boy Scouts to be laying down the law for me. By +your own confession you have destroyed my stanchions and as a citizen it +is my duty to take action. But if I were to give you a paper dated +yesterday, assigning the boat to you, then it would appear that you had +simply trespassed and burglariously entered your own property and +destroyed your own stanchions and I would not have a leg to stand upon. +My advice to you as a lawyer is to accept such a transfer of title and +avoid trouble." + +He began ostentatiously to read one of his letters. + +"He's right, Tom," whispered Pee-wee, "It's what you call a teckinality. +Gee, we better take the boat. There's no use trying to beat a lawyer. +He's got the right on his side." + +"I don't know," said Tom, doubtfully. He, too, fancied that Mr. Stanton +was laughing inwardly, but he was not good at repartee and the lawyer +was too much for him. It was Roy who took the situation in hand. + +"It seems ungrateful, Mr. Stanton, even to talk about whether we'll take +such a peach of a gift. Tom here is always thinking about the law--our +law--and Pee-wee--we call this kid Pee-wee--he's our specialist on doing +good turns. They're both cranks in different ways. I know there's a +difference, as you say, between just a present and a reward. And it +seems silly to say thank you for such a present, just as if it was a +penknife or something like that. But we do thank you and we'll take the +boat. I just happened to think of a good name for it while you were +talking. It was the good turn Pee-wee did yesterday--about the bird, I +mean--that made you offer it to us and your giving it to us is a good +turn besides, so I guess we'll call it the 'Good Turn.'" + +"You might call it the 'Teckinality,'" suggested Mr. Stanton with a +glance at Pee-wee. + +"All right," he added, "I'll send one of my men down later in the day +to see about getting her in the water. I've an idea a block and falls +will do the trick. But you'd better caulk her up with lampwick and give +her a coat of paint in the meantime." + +He went to the door with them and as they turned at the foot of the +stairs and called back another "Thank you," Roy noticed something in his +face which had not been there before. + +"I bet he's thinking of his son," said he. + +"Wonder how he died," said Tom. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BON VOYAGE! + + +"Now, you see," said Pee-wee, "how a good turn can evolute." + +"Can what?" said Tom. + +"Evolute." + +"It could neverlute with me," observed Roy. "Gee, but we've fallen in +soft! You could have knocked me down with a toothpick. I wonder what our +sleuth friend, the sheriff, will say." + +The sheriff said very little; he was too astonished to say much. So were +most of the people of the town. When they heard that "Old Man Stanton" +had given Harry Stanton's boat to some strange boys from out of town, +they said that the loss of his son must have affected his mind. The boys +of the neighborhood, incredulous, went out on the marsh the next day +when the rain held up, and stood about watching the three strangers at +work and marvelling at "Old Man Stanton's" extraordinary generosity. + +"Aw, he handed 'em a lemon!" commented the wiseacre. "That boat'll never +run--it won't even float!" + +But Harry Stanton's cruising launch was no lemon. It proved to be +staunch and solid. There wasn't a rotten plank in her. Her sorry +appearance was merely the superficial shabbiness which comes from disuse +and this the boys had neither the time nor the money to remedy; but the +hull and the engine were good. + +To the latter Roy devoted himself, for he knew something of gas engines +by reason of the two automobiles at his own house. They made a list of +the things they needed, took another hike into Nyack and came back laden +with material and provisions. Roy poured a half-gallon or so of kerosene +into each of the two cylinders and left it over night. The next morning +when he drained it off the wheel turned over easily enough. A set of +eight dry cells, some new wiring, a couple of new plugs, a little +session with a pitted coil, a little more gas, a little less air, a +little more gas, and finally the welcome first explosion, so dear to the +heart of the motor-boatist, rewarded Roy's efforts of half a day. + +"Stop it! Stop it!" shrieked Pee-wee from outside. "I hung the paint +can on the propeller! I'm getting a green shower bath!" + +He poked his head over the combing, his face, arms and clothing +bespattered with copper paint. + +"Never mind, kiddo," laughed Roy, "It's all in the game. She runs like a +dream. Step a little closer, ladies and gentlemen, and view the leopard +boy. Pee-wee, you're a sight! For goodness' sakes, get some sandpaper!" + +The two days of working on the _Good Turn_ were two days of fun. It was +not necessary to caulk her lower seams for the dampness of the marsh had +kept them tight, and the seams above were easy. They did not bother +about following the water-line and painting her free-board white; a coat +of copper paint over the whole hull sufficed. They painted the sheathing +of the cockpit a common-sense brown, "neat but not gaudy," as Roy said. +The deck received a coat of an unknown color which their friend, the +sheriff, brought them saying he had used it on his chicken-coop. The +engine they did in aluminum paint, the fly-wheel in a gaudy red, and +then they mixed what was left of all the paints. + +"I bet we get a kind of blackish white," said Pee-wee. + +"I bet it's green," said Tom. + +But it turned out to be a weak silvery gray and with this they painted +the cabin, or rather half the cabin, for their paint gave out. + +They sat until long after midnight in the little cabin after their first +day's work, but were up and at it again bright and early in the morning, +for Mr. Stanton's men were coming with the block and falls at high tide +in the evening to haul the _Good Turn_ back into her watery home. + +Pee-wee spent a good part of the day throwing out superfluous junk and +tidying up the little cabin, while Tom and Roy repaired the rubbing-rail +where it had broken loose and attended to other slight repairs on the +outside. + +The dying sunlight was beginning to flicker on the river and the three +were finishing their supper in the cabin when Tom, looking through the +porthole, called, "Oh, here comes the truck and an automobile just in +front of it!" + +Sure enough, there on the road was the truck with its great coil of +hempen rope and its big pulleys, accompanied by two men in overalls. +Pee-wee could not repress his exuberance as the trio clambered up on the +cabin roof and waved to the little cavalcade. + +"In an hour more she'll be in the water," he shouted, "and we'll----" + +"We'll anchor till daylight," concluded Roy. + +In another moment a young girl, laden with bundles, had left the +automobile and was picking her way across the marsh. It proved to be the +owner of the fugitive bird. + +"I've brought you all the things that belong to the boat," she said, +"and I'm going to stay and see it launched. My father was coming too but +he had a meeting or something or other. Isn't it perfectly glorious how +you chopped up the stanchions----" + +"Great," said Roy. "It shows the good that comes out of breaking the +law. If we hadn't chopped up the stanchions----" + +"Oh, crinkums, look at this!" interrupted Pee-wee. He was handling the +colored bow lamp. + +"And here's the compass, and here's the whistle, and here's the +fog-bell," said the girl, unloading her burden with a sigh of relief. +"And here's the flag for the stern and here--look--I made this all by +myself and sat up till eleven o'clock to do it--see!" + +She unfolded a cheese-cloth pennant with the name _Good Turn_ sewed upon +it. "You have to fly this at the bow in memory of your getting my bird +for me," she said. + +"We'll fly it at the bow in memory of what you and your father have done +for _us_," said Tom. + +"And here's some fruit, and here's some salmon, and here's some pickled +something or other--I got them all out of the pantry and they weigh a +ton!" + +There was no time for talking if the boat was to be got to the river +before dark, and the boys fell to with the men while the girl looked +about the cabin with exclamations of surprise. + +"Isn't it perfectly lovely," she called to Tom, who was outside +encircling the hull with a double line of heavy rope, under the men's +direction. "I never saw anything so cute and wasn't it a fine idea +giving it to you!" + +"Bully," said Tom. + +"It was just going to ruin here," she said, "and it was a shame." + +It was a busy scene that followed and the boys had a glimpse of the +wonderful power of the block and falls. To an enormous tree on the +roadside a gigantic three-wheel pulley was fastened by means of a metal +band around the lower part of the trunk. Several other pulleys between +this and the boat multiplied the hauling power to such a degree that one +person pulling on the loose end which was left after the rope had been +passed back and forth many times through the several pulleys, could +actually move the boat. The hull was completely encircled, the rope +running along the sides and around the stern with another rope below +near the keel so that the least amount of strain would be put upon her. + +They hitched the horses to the rope's end and as the beasts plunged +through the yielding marsh the boat came reeling and lurching toward the +road. Here they laid planks and rollers and jacked her across. This was +not so much a matter of brute strength as of skill. The two men with the +aid of the Stanton chauffeur were able, with props of the right length, +to keep the _Good Turn_ on an even keel, while the boys removed and +replaced the rollers. It was interesting to see how the bulky hull could +be moved several hundred feet, guided and urged across a road and +retarded upon the down grade to the river by two or three men who knew +just how to do it. + +Cautiously the rollers were retarded with obstructing sticks, as the +men, balancing the hull upright, let her slowly down the slope into the +water. Pee-wee stood upon the road holding the rope's end and a thrill +went through him when he felt the rocking and bobbing of the boat as it +regained its wonted home, and at last floated freely in the water. + +"Hang on to that, youngster," called one of the men. "She's where she +can do as she likes now." + +As the _Good Turn_, free at last from prosaic rollers and plank tracks, +rolled easily in the swell, pulling gently upon the rope which the +excited Pee-wee held, it seemed that she must be as pleased as her new +owners were, at finding herself once more in her natural home. How +graceful and beautiful she looked now, in the dying light! There is +nothing so clumsy looking as a boat on shore. To one who has seen a +craft "laid up," it is hardly recognizable when launched. + +"Well, there ye are," said one of the men, "an' 'tain't dark yet +neither. You can move 'er by pullin' one finger now, hey? She looks +mighty nat'ral, don't she, Bill? Remember when we trucked her up from +the freight station and dumped her in three year ago? She was the +_Nymph_ then. Gol, how happy that kid was--you remember, Bill? I'll tell +_you_ kids now what I told him then--told him right in front of his +father; I says, 'Harry, you remember she's human and treat her as such,' +that's what I says ter him. _You_ remember, Bill." + +Roy noticed that the girl had strolled away and was standing in the +gathering darkness a few yards distant, gazing at the boat. The clumsy +looking hull, in which the boys had taken refuge, seemed trim and +graceful now, and Roy was reminded of the fairy story of the ugly +duckling, who was really a swan, but whose wondrous beauty was +unappreciated until it found itself among its own kindred. + +"Yes, sir, that's wot I told him, 'cause I've lived on the river here +all my life, ain't I, Bill, an' I know. Yer don't give an automobile no +name, an' yer don't give an airyplane no name, an' yer don't give a +motorcycle nor a bicycle no name, but yer give a boat a name 'cause +she's human. She'll be cranky and stubborn an' then she'll be soft and +amiable as pie--that's 'cause she's human. An' that's why a man'll let a +old boat stan' an' rot ruther'n sell it. 'Cause it's human and it kinder +gets him. You treat her as such, you boys." + +"How did Harry Stanton die?" Tom asked. + +The man, with a significant motion of his finger toward the lone figure +of the girl, drew nearer and the boys gathered about him. + +"The old gent didn' tell ye, hey?" + +"Not a word." + +"Hmmm--well, Harry was summat older'n you boys, he was gettin' to be a +reg'lar young man. Trouble with him was he didn' know what he wanted. +First off, he must have a horse, 'n' then he must have a boat, so th' +old man, he got him this boat. He's crusty, but he's all to the good, +th' old man is." + +"You bet your life he is," said Pee-wee. + +"Well, Harry an' Benty Willis--you remember Benty, Bill--him an' Benty +Willis was out in the _Nymph_--that's this here very boat. They had 'er +anchored up a ways here, right off Cerry's Hill, an' they was out in the +skiff floppin' 'round--some said fishin'." + +"They was bobbin' fer eels, that's wot they was doin'," said the other +man. + +"Well, wotever they was doin' it was night 'n' thar was a storm. An' +that's every bloomin' thing me or you or anybody else'll ever know about +it. The next day Croby Risbeck up here was out fer his nets an' he come +on the skiff swamped, over there off'n that point. An' near it was +Benty Willis." + +"Drowned?" asked Roy. + +"Drownded. He must o' tried to keep afloat by clingin' t' the skiff, but +she was down to her gunnel an' wouldn' keep a cat afloat. He might o' +kep' his head out o' water a spell clingin' to it. All I know is he was +drownded when he was found. Wotever become o' that skiff, Bill?" + +"And what about Mr. Stanton's son?" Roy asked. + +"Well, they got his hat an' his coat that he must a' thrown off an' +that's all. Th' old man 'ud never look at the launch again. He had her +brought over'n' tied up right about here, an' there she stood till the +floods carried her up over this here road and sot her down in the +marsh." + +"Did the skiff belong with her?" Roy asked. + +"Sure enough; always taggin' on behind." + +"How did they think it happened?" asked Tom. + +"Wall, fer one thing, it was a rough night an' they may uv jest got +swamped. But agin, it's a fact that Harry knew how to swim; he was a +reg'lar water-rat. Now, what I think is this. Th' only thing 't 'd +prevent that lad gettin' ashore'd be his gettin' killed--not drowned, +but _killed_." + +"You don't mean murdered?" Tom asked. + +"Well, if they was swamped by the big night boat, an' he got mixed up +with the paddle wheel, I don't know if ye'd call it murder, but it'd be +killin', sure enough. Leastways, they never got him, an' it's my belief +he was chopped up. Take a tip from me, you boys, an' look out fer the +night boat, 'cause the night boat ain't a-goin' t' look out fer you." + +The girl, strolling back, put an end to their talk, but it was clear +that she, too, must have been thinking of that fatal night, for her eyes +were red and she seemed less vivacious. + +"You must be careful," said she, "there are a good many accidents on the +river. My father told me to tell you you'd better not do much traveling +at night. I want to see you on board, and then I must go home," she +added. + +She held out her hand and Roy, who was in this instance best suited to +speak for the three, grasped it. + +"There's no use trying to thank you and your father," he said. "If you'd +given us some little thing we could thank you, but it seems silly to say +just the same thing when we have a thing like this given to us, and yet +it seems worse for us to go away without saying anything. I guess you +know what I mean." + +"You must promise to be careful--can you all swim?" + +"We are scouts," laughed Roy. + +"And that means you can do anything, I suppose." + +"No, not that," Roy answered, "but we do want to tell you how much we +thank you--you and your father." + +"Especially you," put in Pee-wee. + +She smiled, a pretty wistful smile, and her eyes glistened. "You did +more for me," she said, "you got my bird back. I care more for that bird +than I could ever care for any boat. My brother brought it to me from +Costa Rica." + +She stepped back to the auto. The chauffeur was already in his place, +and the two men were coiling up their ropes and piling the heavy planks +and rollers on board the truck. The freshly painted boat was growing dim +in the gathering darkness and the lordly hills across the river were +paling into gray again. As the little group paused, a deep, melodious +whistle re-echoed from the towering heights and the great night boat +came into view, her lights aloft, plowing up midstream. The _Good Turn_ +bobbed humbly like a good subject as the mighty white giant passed. The +girl watched the big steamer wistfully and for a moment no one spoke. + +"Was your brother--fond of traveling?" Roy ventured. + +"Yes, he was crazy for it," she answered, "and you can't bring _him_ +back as you brought my bird back--you _can't_ do everything after all." + +It was Tom Slade who spoke now. "We couldn't do any more than try," said +he. He spoke in that dull, heavy manner, and it annoyed Roy, for it +seemed as if he were making fun of the girl's bereavement. + +Perhaps it seemed the same to her, for she turned the subject at once. +"I'm going to sit here until you are in the boat," she said. + +They pulled the _Good Turn_ as near the shore as they could bring her +without grounding for the tide was running out, and Pee-wee held her +with the rope while the others went aboard over a plank laid from the +shore to the deck. Then Pee-wee followed, hurrying, for there was +nothing to hold her now. + +They clambered up on the cabin, Roy waving the naval flag, and Pee-wee +the name pennant, while Tom cast the anchor, for already the _Good Turn_ +was drifting. + +"Good-bye!" they cried. + +"Good-bye!" she called back, waving her handkerchief as the auto +started, "and good luck to you!" + +"We'll try to do a good turn some day to make up," shouted Pee-wee. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE MYSTERY + + +"What I don't understand," said Tom, in his dull way, "is how if that +fellow was drowned or killed that night, he managed to get back to this +boat again--that's what gets me." + +"What?" said Roy. + +"What are you talking about?" chimed in Pee-wee. + +They were sitting in the little cabin of the _Good Turn_ eating rice +cakes, about an hour after the launching. The boat rocked gently at its +moorings, the stars glittered in the wide expanse of water, the tiny +lights in the neighboring village kept them cheery company as they +chatted there in the lonesome night with the hills frowning down upon +them. It was very quiet and this, no less than the joyous sense of +possession of this cosy home, kept them up, notwithstanding their +strenuous two days of labor. + +"Just what I said," said Tom. "See that board you fixed the oil stove +on? I believe that was part of that skiff. You can see the letters +N-Y-M-P-H even under the paint. That strip was in the boat all the time. +How did it get here? That's what _I'd_ like to know." + +Roy laid down his "flopper" and examined the board carefully, the +excited Pee-wee joining him. It was evidently the upper strip of the +side planking from a rowboat and at one end, under the diluted paint +which they had here used, could be dimly traced the former name of the +launch. + +"What-do-you-know-about-that?" ejaculated Roy. + +"It's a regular mystery," said Pee-wee; "that's one thing I like, a +mystery." + +"If that's a part of this boat's skiff," said Tom, "then it proves two +things. It proves that the boat was damaged--no fellow could pull a +plank from it like that; and it proves that that fellow came back to the +launch. It proves that he was injured, too. That man said he could swim. +Then why should he bring this board back with him unless it was to help +him keep afloat?" + +"He wouldn't need to drag it aboard," said Roy. + +"Now you spoil it all," put in Pee-wee. + +"I don't know anything about that," said Tom, "but that board didn't +drift back and climb in by itself. It must have been here all the time. +I suppose the other fellow--the one they found drowned--_might_ have got +it here, some way," he added. + +"Not likely," said Roy. "If he'd managed to get back to the launch with +the board, he wouldn't have jumped overboard again just to get drowned. +He'd have managed to stay aboard." + +There was silence for a few minutes while Roy drummed on the plank with +his fingers and Pee-wee could hardly repress his excitement at the +thought that they were on the track of a real adventure. Tom Slade had +"gone and done it again." He was always surprising them by his stolid +announcement of some discovery which opened up delectable possibilities. +And smile as he would (especially in view of Pee-wee's exuberance), Roy +could not but see that here was something of very grave significance. + +"That's what I meant," drawled Tom, "when I told her that we could +_try_--to find her brother." + +This was a knockout blow. + +"This trip of ours is going to be just like a book," prophesied Pee-wee, +excitedly; "there's a--there's a--long lost brother, and--and--a deep +mystery!" + +"Sure," said Roy. "We'll have to change our names; I'll be Roy Rescue, +you be Pee-wee Pinkerton, the boy sleuth, and Tom'll be Tom Trustful. +What d'you say, Tom?" + +Tom made no answer and for all Roy's joking, he was deeply interested. +Like most important clues, the discovery was but a little thing, yet it +could not be accounted for except on the theory that Harry Stanton had +somehow gotten back to the launch after the accident, whatever the +accident was. It meant just that--nothing less and nothing more; though, +indeed, it did mean more to Pee-wee and as he slept that night, in the +gently rocking boat, he dreamed that he had vowed a solemn vow to Mr. +Stanton's daughter to "find her brother or perish in the attempt." He +carried a brace of pistols, and sailing forth with his trusty chums, he +landed in the island of Madagascar, to which Harry Stanton had been +carried, bound hand and foot, in an aeroplane. The three, undaunted, +then built a Zeppelin and sailed up to the summit of a dizzy crag where +they rescued the kidnapped youth and on reaching home, Mr. Stanton gave +them a sea-going yacht and a million dollars each for pocket money. +When he awoke from this thrilling experience he found that the _Good +Turn_ was chugging leisurely up the river in the broad daylight. + +The boat behaved very well, indeed. She leaked a little from the strain +of launching, but the engine pumped the water out faster than it came +in. All day long they lolled in the cockpit or on the cabin roof, taking +turns at the steering. Roy, who best understood gas engines, attended to +the motor, but it needed very little attention except that it missed on +high speed, so he humored it and they ambled along at "sumpty-sump miles +an hour," as Roy said, "but what care we," he added, "as long as she +goes." They anchored for several hours in the middle of the day and +fished, and had a mess of fresh perch for luncheon. + +Naturally, the topic of chief interest was the possibility that Harry +Stanton was living, but the clue which appeared to indicate that much +suggested nothing further, and the question of why he did not return +home, if he were indeed alive was a puzzling one. + +"His sister said he had been to Costa Rica, and was fond of traveling," +suggested Tom. "Maybe his parents objected to his going away from home +so he went this way--as long as the chance came to him--and let them +think he was drowned." + +Roy, sitting on the cabin roof with his knees drawn up, shook his head. +"Or maybe he left the boat again and tried to swim to shore to go home, +and didn't make it," he added. + +"That's possible," said Tom, "but then they'd probably have found his +body." + +"We aren't sure he's alive," Roy said thoughtfully, "but it means a +whole lot not to be sure that he's dead." + +"Maybe he was made away with by someone who wanted the boat," said +Pee-wee. "Maybe a convict from the prison killed him--you never can +tell. Jiminys, it's a mystery, sure." + +"You bet it is," said Roy. "The plot grows thicker. If Sir Guy Weatherby +were only here, or Detective Darewell--or some of those story-book ginks +they----" + +"They probably wouldn't have noticed the plank from the skiff," +suggested Pee-wee. + +Roy laughed and then fell to thinking. "Gee, it would be great if we +could find him!" he said. + +And there the puzzling matter ended, for the time being; but the _Good +Turn_ took on a new interest because of the mystery with which it was +associated and Pee-wee was continually edifying his companions with +startling and often grewsome theories as to the fate or present +whereabouts of Harry Stanton, until--until that thing happened which +turned all their thoughts from this puzzle and proved that bad turns as +well as good ones have the boomerang quality of returning upon their +author. + +It was the third afternoon of their cruise, or their "flop" as Roy +called it, for they had flopped along rather than cruised, and the _Good +Turn's_ course would have indicated, as he remarked, a fit of the blind +staggers. They had paused to fish and to bathe; they had thrown together +a makeshift aquaplane from the pieces of an old float which they had +found, and had ridden gayly upon it; and their course had been so +leisurely and rambling that they had not yet reached Poughkeepsie, when +all of a sudden the engine stopped. + +Roy went through the usual course of procedure to start it up, but +without result. There was not a kick left in it. Silently he unscrewed +the cap on the deck, pushed a stick into the tank and lifted it +out--dry. + +"Boys," said he, solemnly, "there is not a drop of gasoline in the tank. +The engine must have used it all up. Probably it has been using it all +the time----" + +"You make me sick," said Pee-wee. + +"I have known engines to do that before." + +"Didn't I tell you to get gasoline in Newburgh?" demanded Pee-wee. + +"You did, Sir Walter, and would that we had taken your advice; but I +trusted the engine and it has evidently been using the gasoline while +our backs were turned. _We_ should worry! You don't suppose it would run +on witch hazel, do you?" + +"Didn't I tell----" began Pee-wee. + +"If we could only reduce friend Walter to a liquid," said Roy. "I think +we could get started all right--he's so explosive." + +"Bright boy," said Tom. + +"Oh, I'm a regular feller, I am," said Roy. "I knew that engine would +stop when there wasn't any more gasoline--I just felt it in my bones. +But what care we! + + 'Oh, we are merry mountaineers, + And have no carking cares or fears-- + Or gasoline.' + +Get out the oars, scouts!" + +So they got out the oars and with the aid of these and a paddle +succeeded in making the shore where they tied up to the dilapidated +remnants of what had once been a float. + +"There must be a village in the neighborhood," said Tom, "or there +wouldn't be a float here." + +"Sherlock Holmes Slade is at it again," said Roy. It would have been a +pretty serious accident that Roy wouldn't have taken gayly. "Pee-wee, +you're appointed a committee to look after the boat while Tomasso and I +go in search of adventure--and gasoline. There must be a road up there +somewhere and if there's a road I dare say we can find a garage--maybe +even a village. Get things ready for supper, Pee-wee, and when we get +back I'll make a Silver Fox omelet for good luck." + +The spot where they had made a landing was at the foot of precipitous +hills between which and the shore ran the railroad tracks. Tom and Roy, +carrying a couple of gasoline cans, started along a road which led +around the lower reaches of one of these hills. As Pee-wee stood upon +the cabin watching them, the swinging cans were brightened by the rays +of the declining sun, and there was a chill in the air as the familiar +grayness fell upon the heights, bringing to the boy that sense of +loneliness which he had felt before. + +He was of the merriest temperament, was Pee-wee, and, as he had often +said, not averse to "being jollied." But he was withal very sensitive +and during the trip he had more than once fancied that Tom and Roy had +fallen together to his own exclusion, and it awakened in him now and +then a feeling that he was the odd number of the party. He had tried to +ingratiate himself with them, though to be sure no particular effort was +needed to do that, yet sometimes he saw, or fancied he saw, little +things which made him feel that in important matters he was left out of +account. Roy would slap him on the shoulder and tousle his hair, but he +would ask Tom's advice--and take it. Perhaps Roy had allowed his +propensity for banter and jollying to run too far in his treatment of +Pee-wee. At all events, the younger boy had found himself a bit +chagrined at times that their discussions had not been wholly +three-handed. And now, as he watched the others hiking off through the +twilight, and heard their laughter, he recalled that it was usually _he_ +who was appointed a "committee to stay and watch the boat." + +This is not a pleasant train of thought when you are standing alone in +the bleakness and sadness and growing chill of the dying day, with +tremendous nature piled all about you, and watching your two companions +as they disappear along a lonely road. But the mood was upon him and it +did not cheer him when Roy, turning and making a megaphone of his hands, +called, "Look out and don't fall into the gas tank, Pee-wee!" + +He _had_ reminded them that they had better buy gasoline at Newburgh, +while they had the chance. Roy had answered jokingly telling Pee-wee +that he had better buy a soda in the city while _he_ had the chance, and +Tom had added, "I guess the kid thinks we want to drink it." + +Well, there they were hiking it up over the hills now in quest of +gasoline and still joking him. + +If Pee-wee had remembered Roy's generous pleasure in the "parrot stunt," +he would have been much happier, but instead he allowed his imagination +to picture Tom and Roy in the neighboring village, having a couple of +sodas--perhaps taking a flyer at a movie show. + +He did as much as he could toward getting supper, and when it grew dark +and still they did not return, he clambered up on the cabin roof again +and sat there gazing off into the night. But still they did not come. + +"Gee, I'm a Silver Fox, anyway," he said; "you'd think he'd want one of +his own patrol with him _sometimes_--gee!" + +He rose and went down into the cabin where the dollar watch which hung +on a nail told him that it was eight o'clock. Then it occurred to him +that it would serve them right if he got his own supper and was in his +bunk and asleep when they returned. It would be a sort of revenge on +them. He would show them, at least, that he could get along very well by +himself, and by way of doing so he would make some rice cakes. Roy was +not the only one who could make rice cakes. He, Pee-wee, could make them +if nobody stood by guying him. + +He had never wielded the flopper; that had been Roy's province; but he +could, all right, he told himself. So he dug into Roy's duffel bag for +the recipe book which was famous in the troop; which told the secrets of +the hunter's stew; which revealed the mystery of plum-duff and raisin +pop-overs in all their luscious details and which set you on the right +path for the renowned rice cakes. + +Between the leaves, right where the rice cake recipe revealed itself to +the hungry inquirer, was a folded paper which dropped out as Pee-wee +opened the book. For all he knew it contained the recipe so he held it +under the lantern and read: + + "Dear Mary: + + "Since you butted in, Tom and I have decided that it would be + better for Pee-wee to go with _him_, and I'll stay home. Anyway, + that's what I've decided. So you'll get your wish all right and I + should worry. + + "Roy." + +Pee-wee read it twice over, then he laid it on the locker and sat down +and looked at it. Then he picked it up and read it over again. He did +not even realize that its discovery among Roy's things would indicate +that it had never been sent. Sent or not, it had been written. + +So this was the explanation of Roy's invitation that he accompany them +on the trip. Mary Temple had asked them to let him go. Yet, despite his +present mood, he could not believe that his own patrol leader, Roy +Blakeley, could have written this. + +"I bet Tom Slade is--I bet he's the cause of it," he said. + +He recalled now how he had talked about the trip to Mary Temple and how +she had spoken rather mysteriously about the possibility of his going +along. So it was she who was his good friend; it was to her he owed the +invitation which had come to him with such a fine air of sincerity. + +"I always--crinkums, anyway girls always seem to like me, that's one +thing," he said. "And--and Roy did, too, before Tom Slade came into the +troop." + +It was odd how he turned against Tom, making him the scapegoat for Roy's +apparent selfishness and hypocrisy. + +"They just brought me along for charity, like," he said, "'cause she +told them to. Cracky, anyway, I didn't try to make her do that--I +didn't." + +This revelation in black and white of Roy's real feeling overcame him +and as he put the letter back in the book and the book back in the +duffel bag, he could scarcely keep his hand from trembling. + +"Anyway, I knew it all the time," he said. "I could see it." + +He had no appetite for rice cakes now. He took some cakes of chocolate +and a couple of hard biscuits and stuffed them in his pocket. Then he +went out into the cockpit and listened. There was no sound of voices or +footfalls, nothing but the myriad voices of nature, or frogs croaking +nearby, of a cheery cricket somewhere on shore, of the water lapping +against the broken old wharf as the wind drove it in shoreward. + +He returned to the cabin, tore a leaf from his scout notebook and wrote, +but he had to blink his eyes to keep back the tears. + + "Dear Roy: + + "I think you'll have more fun if you two go the rest of the way + alone. I always said two's a company, three's a crowd. You've heard + me say it and I ought to have had sense enough to remember it. But + anyway, I'm not mad and I like you just as much. I'll see you at + camp. + + "WALTER HARRIS." + + "P. S.--If I had to vote again for patrol leader I'd vote for you." + +He was particular not to mention Tom by name and to address his note to +Roy. He laid it in the frying pan on the stove (in which he had +intended to make the rice cakes) and then, with his duffel bag over his +shoulder and his scout staff in hand, he stepped from the _Good Turn_, +listening cautiously for approaching footsteps, and finding the way +clear he stole away through the darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PEE-WEE'S ADVENTURE + + +A walk of a few yards or so brought him to the railroad track. He was no +longer the clown and mascot of the _Good Turn_; he was the scout, alert, +resourceful, bent on hiding his tracks. + +He did not know where he was going, more than that he was going to elude +pursuit and find a suitable spot in which to camp for the night. Matters +would take care of themselves in the daytime. He wanted to follow the +railroad tracks, for he knew that would keep him close to the river, but +he knew also that it had the disadvantage of being the very thing the +boys would suppose it most likely that he would do. For, feel as he +would toward them, he did not for a moment believe that they would let +him take himself off without searching for him. And he knew something of +Tom Slade's ability as a tracker. + +"They won't get any merit badges trailing _me_, though," he said. + +So he crossed the tracks and walked a couple of hundred feet or so up a +hill, grabbed the limb of a tree, swung up into its branches, let +himself down on the other side, and retraced his steps to the tracks and +began to walk the ties, northward. He was now thoroughly in the spirit +of the escapade and a feeling of independence seized him, a feeling that +every scout knows, that having undertaken a thing he must succeed in it. + +A walk of about ten minutes brought him to a high, roofed platform +beside the tracks, where one or two hogsheads were standing and several +cases. But there was no sign of life or habitation. It was evidently the +freight station for some town not far distant, for a couple of +old-fashioned box-cars stood on a siding, and Pee-wee contemplated them +with the joy of sudden inspiration. + +"Crinkums, that would be a dandy place to sleep," he thought, for it was +blowing up cold and he had but scant equipment. + +He went up to the nearest car and felt of the sliding door. It was the +least bit open, owing to its damaged condition, and by moving it a very +few inches more he could have slipped inside. But he paused to examine +the pasters and chalk marks on the body. One read "Buffalo--4--LLM." +There were the names of various cities and numerous strange marks. It +was evident the car had been quite a globe-trotter in its time, but as +it stood there then it seemed to Pee-wee that so it must have stood for +a dozen years and was likely to stand for a dozen years more. + +He slid the door a little farther open on its rusty hinges and climbed +inside. It was very dark and still and smelled like a stable, but +suddenly he was aware of a movement not far from him. He did not exactly +hear it, but he felt that something was moving. For a moment a cold +shudder went over him and he stood stark still, not daring to move. +Then, believing that his imagination had played a trick, he fumbled in +his duffel bag, found his flashlight and sent its vivid gleam about the +car. A young fellow in a convict's suit stood menacingly before the door +with one hand upon it, blinking and watching the boy with a lowering +aspect. His head was close-shaven and shone in the light's glare so that +he looked hardly human. He had apparently sprung to the door, perhaps +out of a sound sleep, and he was evidently greatly alarmed. Pee-wee was +also greatly alarmed, but he was no coward and he stood his ground +though his heart was pounding in his breast. + +"You ain't no bo," said the man. + +"I--I'm a scout," stammered Pee-wee, "and I was going to camp here for +the night. I didn't know there was anyone here." + +The man continued to glare at him and Pee-wee thought he had never in +his life seen such a villainous face. + +"I'll--I'll go away," he said, "I was only going to sleep here." + +The convict, still guarding the door, leered brutally at him, his head +hanging low, his lips apart, more like a beast than a man. + +"No, yer won't go 'way, nuther," he finally said; "yer ain't goin' ter +double-cross _me_, pal. Wot d'yer say yer wuz?" + +"A scout," said Pee-wee. "I don't need to stay here, you were here +first. I can camp outdoors." + +"No, yer don't," said the man. "You stay whar yer are. Yer ain't goin' +ter double-cross _me_." + +"I don't know what you mean by that," said Pee-wee. + +The convict did not offer him any explanation, only stood guarding the +door with a threatening aspect, which very much disconcerted Pee-wee. He +was a scout and he was brave, and not panicky in peril or emergency, but +the striped clothing and cropped head and stupid leer of the man before +him made him seem something less than human. His terror was more that of +an animal than of a man and his apparent inability to express himself +save by the repetition of that one sentence frightened the boy. +Apparently the creature was all instinct and no brains. + +"Yer gotta stay here," he repeated. "Yer ain't goin' ter double-cross +_me_, pal." + +Then it began to dawn on Pee-wee what he meant. + +"I guess I know about you," he said, "because I heard about +your--getting away. But, anyway, if you let me go away I won't tell +anyone I saw you. I don't want to camp here now. I'll promise not to go +and tell people, if that's what you're afraid of." + +"Wot's in that bag?" asked the man. + +"My camping things." + +"Got any grub?" + +"I've got two biscuits and some chocolate." + +"Gimme it," said the man, coming closer. + +He snatched the food as fast as it was taken out of the bag, and Pee-wee +surmised that he had not eaten since his escape from prison for he +devoured it ravenously like a famished beast. + +"Got any more?" he asked, glaring into the boy's face menacingly. + +"No, I'm sorry I haven't. I escaped, too, as you might say, from my +friends--from the fellers I was with. And I only brought a little with +me." + +After a few minutes (doubtless from the stimulating effects of the +food), the convict's fear seemed to subside somewhat and he spoke a +little more freely. But Pee-wee found it very unpleasant being shut in +with him there in the darkness, for, of course, the flashlight could not +be kept burning all the time. + +"I wouldn't do yer no hurt," he assured Pee-wee. "I t'ought mebbe yer +wuz a _de_-coy. Yer ain't, are ye?" he asked suspiciously. + +"No, I'm not," said Pee-wee, "I'm just what I told you----" + +"I ain't goin' ter leave ye go free, so ye might's well shut up. I seen +pals double-cross _me_--them ez I trusted, too. Yer square, I +guess--only innercent." + +"I'd keep my word even with--I'd keep my word with you," said Pee-wee, +"just the same as with anyone. Besides, I don't see what's the use of +keeping me here. You'll have to let me go some time, you can't keep me +here forever, and you can't stay here forever, yourself." + +"If ye stan' right 'n' show ye're game," said the convict, "thar won't +no hurt come to ye. This here car's way-billed fer Buff'lo, 'n' I'm +waitin' ter be took up now. It's a grain car. Yer ain't goin' ter peach +wot I tell ye, now? I wuz put wise to it afore I come out by a railroad +bloke. I had it straight these here cars would be picked up fer Buff'lo +the nex' day after I done my trick. But they ain't took 'em up yet, an' +I'm close ter starvin' here." + +Pee-wee could not help but feel a certain sympathy with this man, wretch +though he was, who on the information of some accomplice outside the +prison, had made his escape expecting to be carried safely away the next +day and had been crouching, half-starved, in this freight car ever +since, waiting. + +"What will you do if they don't take up the car for a week?" he asked. +"They might look inside of it, too; or they might change their minds +about taking it." + +He was anxious for himself for he contemplated with terror his +threatened imprisonment, but he could not help being concerned also for +this miserable creature and he wondered what would happen if they both +remained in the car for several days more, with nothing to eat. Then, +surely, the man would be compelled to put a little faith in him and let +him go out in search of food. He wondered what he should do in that +case--what he ought to do; but that, he realized, was borrowing trouble. +Mr. Ellsworth, his scoutmaster, had once said that it is _always bad to +play false_. Well, then, would it be bad to play false with an escaped +felon--to double-cross him? Pee-wee did not know. + +His companion interrupted his train of thought "They don' look inside o' +way-billed empties--not much," he said, "an' they don't let 'em stan' so +long, nuther. I got bad luck, I did, from doin' my trick on a Friday. +They'll be 'long pretty quick, though. They reckisitioned all th' empty +grain cars fer Buff'lo. I'm lookin' ter hear th' whistle any minute, I +am, an' I got a pal waitin' fer me in the yards up ter Buff'lo, wid the +duds. When I get there 'n' get me clo's changed, mebbe I'll leave ye +come back if me pal 'n' me thinks ye kin be trusted." + +"I can be trusted now just as much as I could be trusted then," said +Pee-wee, greatly disturbed at the thought of this enforced journey; +"and how could I get back? I guess maybe you don't know anything about +scouts--maybe they weren't started when you were---- Anyway, a scout can +be trusted. Anybody'll tell you that. If he gives his word he'll keep +it. I don't know anything about what you did and if you ask me if I want +to see you get captured I couldn't tell you, because I don't know how I +feel. But if you'll let me go now I'll promise not to say anything to +anyone. I don't want to go to Buffalo. I want to go to my camp. As long +as I know about you, you got to trust me some time and you might as well +trust me now." + +If the fugitive could have seen Pee-wee's earnest face and honest eyes +as he made this pitiful appeal, he might have softened a little, even if +he had not appreciated the good sense of the boy's remarks. + +"I'd ruther get me other duds on fust, 'n' I'd like fer ter hev ye meet +me pal," he said, with the first touch of humor he had shown. "Now, if +yer go ter cuttin' up a rumpus I'll jest hev ter brain ye, see?" + +Pee-wee leaned back against the side of the car in the darkness as +despair seized him. He had always coveted adventure but this was too +much and he felt himself to be utterly helpless in this dreadful +predicament. Even as he stood there in a state of pitiable +consternation, a shrill whistle sounded in the distance, which was +echoed back from the unseen hills. + +"Dat's a freight," said the convict, quickly. + +Pee-wee listened and his last flickering hope was extinguished as he +recognized the discordant rattle and bang of the slow-moving train, +emphasized by the stillness of the night. Nearer and nearer it came and +louder grew the clank and clamor of the miscellaneous procession of box +cars. It was a freight, all right. + +"If--if you'll let me get out," Pee-wee began, on the very verge of a +panic, "if you'll let me get out----" + +The convict fumblingly took him by the throat. He could feel the big, +coarse, warm fingers pressing into the sides of his neck and it gagged +him. + +"If yer open yer head when we're bein' took up, I'll brain yer, hear +that?" he said. "Gimme that light, gimme yer knife." + +He flashed on the light, tore the scout knife from Pee-wee's belt, and +flung the frightened boy against the side of the car. Keeping the light +pointed at him, he opened the knife. The spirit of desperate resolve +seemed to have reawakened within him at the sound of that long-hoped-for +train and Pee-wee was no more to him than an insect to have his life +trampled out if he could not be used or if his use were unavailing. +Here, unmasked, was the man who had braved the tempestuous river on that +dreadful night. Truly, as the sheriff had said, "desperate characters +will take desperate chances." + +"If yer open yer head or call out or make a noise wid yer feet or poun' +de side o' de car or start a-bawlin' I'll brain ye, ye hear? Nobody gets +_me_ alive. An' if anybody comes in here 'cause o' you makin' a noise +and cryin' fer help, yer'll be the fust to git croaked--see?" + +He pointed the light straight at Pee-wee, holding the open jack-knife in +his other hand, and glared at him with a look which struck terror to the +boy's heart. Pee-wee was too frightened and exhausted to answer. He only +shook his head in acknowledgment, breathing heavily. + +In a few minutes the train had come abreast of them and stopped. They +could hear the weary puffing of the engine, and voices calling and +occasionally they caught the gleam of a lantern through the crack in +the car. Pee-wee remained very still. The convict took his stand in the +middle of the car between the two sliding doors, lowering and alert, +holding the flashlight and the clasp knife. + +Soon the train moved again, then stopped. There were calls from one end +of it to the other. Then it started again and continued to move until +Pee-wee thought it was going away, and his hope revived at the thought +that escape might yet be possible. Then the sound came nearer again and +presently the car received a jolt, accompanied by a bang. The convict +was thrown a little, but he resumed his stand, waiting, desperate, +menacing. Those few minutes must have been dreadful ones to him as he +watched the two doors, knife in hand. + +Then came more shunting and banging and calling and answering, a short, +shrill whistle and more moving and then at last the slow, continuous +progress of the car, which was evidently now at last a part of that +endless miscellaneous procession, rattling along through the night with +its innumerable companions. + +"It's lucky for them," said the convict, through his teeth, as he +relaxed. + +Pee-wee hardly knew what he meant, he had scarcely any interest, and it +was difficult to hear on account of the noise. He was too shaken up to +think clearly, but he wondered, as the rattling train moved slowly +along, how long he could go without food, how he would get back from +Buffalo, and whether this dreadful companion of his would take his +stand, like an animal at bay, whenever the train stopped. + +After a little time, when he was able to get a better grip on himself +and realize fully his terrible plight, he began to think how, after all, +the scout, with all his resource and fine courage, his tracking and his +trailing and his good turns, is pretty helpless in a real dilemma. Here +was an adventure, and rather too much of a one, and neither he nor any +other scout could extricate him from his predicament. In books they +could have done it with much brave talk, but in real life they could do +nothing. He was tired and frightened and helpless; the shock of the +pressure of those brutal fingers about his neck still distressed him, +and his head ached from it all. + +What wonder if in face of this tragical reality, the scouts with all +their much advertised resource and prowess should lose prestige a little +in his thoughts? Yet it might have been worth while for him to pause and +reflect that though the scout arm is neither brutal nor menacing, it +still has an exceedingly long reach and that it can pin you just as +surely as the cruel fingers which had fixed themselves on his own +throat. + +But he was too terrified and exhausted to think very clearly about +anything. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +TRACKS AND TRAILING + + +When the engineer blew the whistle which the convict had heard with such +satisfaction and Pee-wee with such dread, it was by way of warning two +dark figures which were about to cross the tracks. Something bright +which they carried shone in the glare of the headlight. + +"Here comes a freight," said Tom. + +"Let it come, I can't stop it," said Roy. "Je-ru-salem, this can is +heavy." + +"Same here," said Tom. + +"I wouldn't carry another can of gas this far for a prince's +ransom--whatever in the dickens that is. Look at the blisters on my +hand, will you? Gee, I'm so hungry I could eat a package of tacks. I bet +Pee-wee's been throwing duck fits. Never mind, we did a good turn. 'We +seen our duty and we done it noble.' Some grammar! They ought to put us +on the cover of the manual. Boy scouts returning from a gasoline hunt! +Good turn, turn down the gas, hey? Did you ever try tracking a freight +train? It's terribly exciting." + +"Keep still, will you!" said Tom, setting down his can. "Can't you see +I'm spilling the gasoline? Don't make me laugh." + +"The face with the smile wins," Roy rattled on. "For he ain't no slouch, +but the lad with the grouch---- Pick up your can and get off the +track--safety first!" + +"Well, then, for goodness' sake, shut up!" laughed Tom. + +It had been like this all the way back, Tom setting down his can at +intervals and laughing in spite of himself at Roy's nonsense. + +When they reached the boat Roy looked inside and called Pee-wee. + +"Where is our young hero, anyway?" he said. + +But "our young hero" was not there. They poured the gas into the tank +and then went inside where Roy discovered the note in the saucepan. He +read it, then handed it to Tom and the two stood for a moment staring at +each other, too surprised to speak. + +"What do you suppose has got into him?" exclaimed Tom. + +"Search me; unless he's mad because we left him here." + +Tom looked about as if in search of some explanation, and as usual his +scrutiny was not unfruitful. + +"It looks as if he had started to get supper," said he: "there's the +rice----" + +A sudden inspiration seized Roy. Pulling out the recipe book from his +duffel bag he opened it where the letter to Mary Temple lay. "I thought +so," he said shamefacedly. "I left the end of it sticking out to mark +the place and now it's in between the leaves. That's what did the +mischief; he must have found it." + +"You ought to have torn it up before we started," said Tom. + +"I know it, but I just stuck it in there when I was brushing up my +memory on rice cakes, and there it's been ever since. I ought never to +have written it at all, if it comes to that." + +Tom made no answer. They had never mentioned that incident which was +such an unpleasant memory to them both. + +"Well, we've got to find him, that's all," said Tom. + +"Gee, it seems as if we couldn't possibly get along without Pee-wee +now," Roy said. "I never realized how much fun it would be having him +along. Poor kid! It serves me right for----" + +"What's the use of thinking about that _now_?" said Tom, bluntly. "We've +just got to find him Come on, hurry up, get your flashlight. Every +minute we wait he's a couple of hundred feet farther away." + +For the first time in all their trip, as it seemed to Roy, Tom's spirit +and interest were fully aroused. He was as keen as a bloodhound for the +trail and instinctively Roy obeyed him. + +They hurried out without waiting for so much as a bite to eat and with +the aid of their flashlights (and thanks to the recent rains) had no +difficulty in trailing Pee-wee as far as the railroad tracks. + +"He'd either follow the track," said Tom, "or else the road we took and +hide somewhere till we passed. He wouldn't try any cross-country +business at night, I don't believe." + +"Poor kid!" was all Roy could say. The thought of that note which he had +carelessly left about and of Pee-wee starting out alone haunted him and +made him feel like a scoundrel. All his gayety had vanished and he +depended on Tom and followed his lead. He remembered only too well the +wonderful tracking stunt that Tom had done the previous summer, and now, +as he looked at that rather awkward figure, kneeling with head low, and +creeping along from tie to tie, oblivious to all but his one purpose, he +felt a certain thrill of confidence. By a sort of unspoken +understanding, he (who was the most all-round scout of them all and +looked it into the bargain) had acted as their leader and spokesman on +the trip; and Tom Slade, who could no more talk to strangers, and +especially girls, than he could fly, had followed, envying Roy's easy +manner and all-around proficiency. But Tom was a wizard in tracking, and +as Roy watched him now he could not help realizing with a pang of shame +that again it was Tom who had come to the rescue to save him from the +results of his own selfishness and ill-temper. He remembered those +words, spoken in Tom's stolid way on the night of their quarrel. "_It's +kind of like a trail in your mind and I got to hit the right trail._" He +_had_ hit the right trail then and brought Roy to his senses, and now +again when that rude, selfish note cropped up to work mischief it was +Tom who knelt down there on the railroad tracks, seeking again for the +right trail. + +"Here it is," he said at last, when he had closely examined and smelt +of a dark spot on one of the ties. "Lucky you let him clean the engine; +he must have been standing in the oil trough." + +"Good he had his sneaks on, too," said Roy, stooping. "It's like a stamp +on a pound of butter." + +It was not quite as clear as that, but if Pee-wee had prepared his +sneaks especially for making prints on wooden ties he could scarcely +have done better. In order to get at the main bearings of the engine he +had, with characteristic disregard, stood plunk in the copper drain +basin under the crank-case. The oil had undoubtedly softened the rubber +sole of his sneakers so that it held the clinging substance, and in some +cases it was possible to distinguish on the ties the half-obliterated +crisscross design of the rubber sole. + +"Come on," said Tom, "this thing is a cinch." + +"It's a shame to call it tracking," said Roy, regaining some measure of +his wonted spirits as they hurried along. "It's a blazed trail." + +And so, indeed, it was while it lasted, but suddenly it ceased and the +boys paused, puzzled. + +"Listen for trains," warned Tom. + +"There won't be any along yet a while," said Roy. "There's one stopped +up there a ways now." + +They could hear the shunting up the track, interspersed with faint +voices calling. + +"Here's where he's put one over on us," said Roy. "Poor kid." + +"Here's where he's been reading Sir Baden-Powell, you mean. Wait till I +see if he worked the boomerang trick. See that tree up there?" + +It was amazing how readily Tom assumed that Pee-wee would do just what +he had done to elude pursuit. + +"Tree's always a suspicious thing," said he; "this is a Boer +wrinkle--comes from South Africa." + +He did not bother hunting for the tracks in the hubbly ground, but made +straight for the tree. + +"Poor kid," was all he could say as he picked up a few freshly fallen +leaves and a twig or two. "He's good at climbing anyway." He examined +one of the leaves carefully with his flashlight. "Squint around," he +said to Roy, "and see if you can find where he stuck his staff in the +ground." + +Roy got down, poking his light here and there, and parting the rough +growth. + +"Here it is," said he. + +Oh, it was all easy--too easy, for a scout. It gave them no feeling of +triumph, only pity for the stout-hearted little fellow who had tried to +escape them. + +A more careful examination of the lower branches of the tree and of the +ground beneath was enough. Tom did not even bother about the prints +leading back to the railroad, but went back to the tracks and after a +few minutes picked up the trail again there. This they followed till +they came to the siding, now deserted. + +Here, for a few minutes, it did seem as if Pee-wee had succeeded in +baffling them, for the prints leaving the ties ran over to the siding +and there ended in a confused collection of footprints pointing in every +direction. Evidently, Pee-wee had paused here, but what direction he had +taken from this point they could not see. + +"This has got _me_ guessing," said Tom. + +"He was tangoing around here," said Roy, pointing his flashlight to the +ground, "that's sure. Maybe the little Indian walked the rail." + +But an inspection of the rail showed that he had not done that, unless, +indeed, the recent rain had obliterated the marks. + +They examined the platform carefully, the steps, the one or two +hogsheads, but no sign did they reveal. + +"It gets me," said Tom, as they sat down on the edge of the platform, +dangling their legs. + +"He swore he wouldn't go near a railroad--remember?" said Roy, smiling a +little wistfully. + +Tom slowly shook his head. + +"It's all my fault," said Roy. + +"Meanwhile, we're losing time," said Tom. + +"You don't suppose----" began Roy. "Where do you suppose that freight +stopped? Here?" + +Tom said nothing for a few moments. Then he jumped down and kneeling +with his light began again examining the confusion of footprints near +the siding. Roy watched him eagerly. He felt guilty and discouraged. Tom +was apparently absorbed with some fresh thought. Around one footprint he +drew a ring in the soil. Then he got up and crept along by the rail +throwing his light upon it. About twelve or fifteen feet along this he +paused, and crossing suddenly, examined the companion rail exactly +opposite. Then he straightened up. + +"What is it?" asked Roy. But he got no answer. + +Tom went back along the rail till he came to a point twelve or fifteen +feet in the other direction from the group of footprints, and here he +made another careful scrutiny of both rails. The group of footprints was +outside the track and midway between the two points in which he seemed +so much interested. + +"This is the end of _our_ tracking," he said at length. + +"What's the matter?" + +"Come here and I'll show you. See that footprint--it's only half a +one--the front half--see? That's the last one of the lot. That's where +he climbed into the car--see?" + +Roy stood speechless. + +"See? Now come here and I'll show you something. See those little rusty +places on the track? It's fresh rust--see? You can wipe it off with your +finger. There's where the wheels were--see? One, two, three, four--same +on the other side, see? And down there," pointing along the track, "it's +the same way. If it hadn't been raining this week, we'd never known +about a freight car being stalled here, hey? See, those footprints are +just half-way between the rusty spots. There's where the door was. See? +This little front half of a footprint tells the story. He had to climb +to get in--poor kid. He went on a railroad train, after all." + +Roy could say nothing. He could only stare as Tom pointed here and there +and fitted things together like a picture puzzle. The car was gone, but +it had left its marks, just as the boy had. + +"You put it into my head when you mentioned the train," said Tom. + +"Oh, sure; _I_ put it into your head," said Roy, in disgust. "_I'm_ a +wonderful scout--_I_ ought to have a tin medal! It was you brought me +that letter back. It was Pee-wee got the bird down and won a boat for +us--and I've turned him out of it," he added, bitterly. + +"No, you----" + +"Yes, I have. And it was _you_ that tracked him, and it was _you_ +spelled this out and it's _you_--it's just like _you_, too--to turn +around and say I put it into your head. The only thing _I've_ done in +this whole blooming business is try to insult Mary Temple--only--only +you wouldn't let me get away with it," he stammered. + +"Roy," interrupted Tom, "listen--just a minute." He had never seen Roy +like this before. + +"Come on," said Roy, sharply. "You've done all _you_ could. Come on +back!" + +Tom was not much at talking, but seeing his friend in this state seemed +to give him words and he spoke earnestly and with a depth of feeling. + +"It's always _you_," said Roy. "It's----" + +"Roy," said Tom, "don't--wait a minute--_please_. When we got back to +the boat I said we'd have to find him--don't go on like that, +Roy--please! I thought I could find him. But you see I can't--_I_ can't +find him." + +"You can make these tracks talk to you. I'm a----" + +"No, you're not; listen, _please_. I said--you remember how I said I +wanted to be alone with you--you remember? Well, now we are alone, and +it's going to be you to do it, Roy; it's going to be _you_ to bring +Pee-wee back. Just the same as you made me a scout a year ago, you +remember? You're the only one can do it, Roy," he put his hand on Roy's +shoulder, "and I'll--I'll help you. And it'll seem like old times--sort +of--Roy. But you're the one to do it. You haven't forgotten about the +searchlight, have you, Roy? You remember how you told me about the +scout's arm having a long reach? You remember, Roy? Come on, hurry up!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE LONG ARM OF THE SCOUT + + +As Tom spoke, there came rushing into Roy's memory as vivid as the +searchlight's shaft, a certain dark night a year before when Tom Slade, +hoodlum, had stood by his side and with eyes of wonder watched him flash +a message from Blakeley's Hill to the city below to undo a piece of +vicious mischief of which Tom had been guilty. He had turned the heavens +into an open book for Westy Martin, miles away, to read what he should +do. + +A thrill of new hope seized Roy. + +"So you see it _will_ be you, Roy." + +"It has to be you to remind me of it." + +"Shut up!" said Tom. + +They ran for the boat at top speed, for, as they both realized, it was +largely a fight against time. + +"That train was dragging along pretty slow when it passed _us_," said +Tom. + +"Sure, 'bout a million cars," Roy panted. "There's an up-grade, too, I +think, between here and Poughkeepsie. Be half an hour, anyway, before +they make it. You're a wonder. We'll kid the life out of Pee-wee for +riding on a train after all. 'Spose he did it on purpose or got locked +in?" + +"Locked in, I guess," said Tom. "Let's try scout pace, I'm getting +winded." + +The searchlight which had been an important adjunct of the old _Nymph_ +had not been used on the _Good Turn_, for the reason that the boys had +not run her at night. It was an acetylene light of splendid power and +many a little craft Harry Stanton had picked up with it in his nocturnal +cruising. Pee-wee had polished its reflector one day to pass the time, +but with the exception of that attention it had lain in one of the +lockers. + +Reaching the boat they pulled the light out, connected it up, and found +to their delight that it was in good working order. + +"My idea," said Roy, now all excitement, "is to flash it from that hill, +then from the middle of the river. Of course, it's a good deal a +question of luck, but it seems as if _somebody_ ought to catch it, in +all these places along the river. Be great if we could find him +to-night, hey?" + +"They'd just have to hold him till we could get there in the boat--they +couldn't get him back here." + +"No sooner said than stung," said Roy; "hurry up, bring that can, and +some matches and--yes, you might as well bring the Manual anyway, +thought I know that code backwards." + +"You're right you do," said Tom. + +He was glad to see Roy himself again and taking the lead, as usual. + +"If there was only one of these telegraph operators--guys, as I used to +call them--star-gazing, we'd pass the word to him, all right." + +"A word to the guys, hey? Come on, hustle!" + +A strenuous climb brought them to the brow of a hill from which the +lights of several villages, and the more numerous lights of Poughkeepsie +could be seen. + +"Now, Tomasso, see-a if you know-a de lesson--queeck! Connect that up +and--look out you don't step on the tube! I wish we had a pedestal or +something. When you're roaming, you have to do as the Romans do, hey? +Open your Manual to page 232. No!" he said hurriedly looking over Tom's +shoulder. "_Care of the fingernails!_ That's _259_ you've got. What do +you think we're going to do, start a manicure parlor? _There_ you +are--now keep the place to make assurance doubly sure. Here goes! Hello, +folks!" he called, as he swung the long shaft fan-wise across the +heavens. "Now, three dots for S?" + +"Right," said Tom. + +Roy sent three short flashes into the night, then paused and sent a +longer flash of about three seconds. Another pause, then three of the +longer flashes, then a short one, two long ones and a short one. + +"S-T-O-P--stop," he said. + +"Right-o," concurred Tom. + +"Now F--two shorts, a long and a short--is it?" + +"You know blamed well it is," said Tom. + +Thus the message was sent. + +_"Stop freight going north; boy locked in car. Hold. Friends coming up +river in boat flying yellow flag."_ + +They had on board a large yellow flag with TEMPLE CAMP on it, and Roy +thought of this as being the best means of identifying the boat for +anyone who might be watching for it along the shore. + +Three times they flashed the message, then hurried back to the boat and +chugged out, anchoring in midstream. The course of the river is as +straight as an arrow here. The lights in the small towns of Milton and +Camelot were visible on either side; tiny lights flickered along the +railroads that skirted either shore, and beyond in the distance twinkled +the lights on the great bridge at Poughkeepsie. + +"We're right in the steamer's path here," said Tom; "let's hurry." + +Roy played the shaft for a minute to attract attention, then threw his +message again and again into the skies. The long, bright, silent column +seemed to fill the whole heaven as it pierced the darkness in short and +long flashes. The chugging of the _Good Turn's_ engine was emphasized by +the solemn stillness as they ran in toward shore, and the splash of +their dropping anchor awakened a faint echo from the neighboring +mountains. + +"Well, that's all we can do till morning," said Roy. "What do you say to +some eats?" + +"Gee, it's big and wild and lonely, isn't it?" said Tom. + +They had never thought of the Hudson in this way before. + +After breakfast in the morning they started upstream, their big yellow +camp flag flying and keeping as near the shore as possible so as to be +within hail. Now that the black background of the night had passed and +the broad daylight was all about them, their hope had begun to wane. The +spell seemed broken; the cheerful reality of the morning sunlight upon +the water and the hills seemed to dissipate their confidence in that +long shaft, and they saw the whole experience of the night as a sort of +fantastic dream. + +But Pee-wee was gone; there was no dream about that, and the boat did +not seem like the same place without him. + +The first place they passed was Stoneco, but there was no sign of life +near the shore, and the _Good Turn_ chugged by unheeded. They ran across +to Milton where a couple of men lolled on a wharf and a few people were +waiting at the little station. They could not get in very close to the +shore on account of the flats, but Roy, making a megaphone of an old +newspaper, asked if a flash message had been received there. After much +shouting back and forth, he learned that the searchlight had been seen +but had been thought to be from one of the night boats plying up and +down the river. It had evidently meant nothing to the speaker or to +anyone else there. Roy asked if they would please ask the telegraph +operator if he had seen it. + +"He'd understand it all right," he said, a bit disheartened. But the +answer came back that the operator had not seen it. + +At Poughkeepsie they made a landing at the wharf. Here expressmen were +moving trunks about, a few stragglers waiting for some boat peered +through the gates like prisoners; there was a general air of bustle and +a "city" atmosphere about the place. A few people gathered about, +looking at the _Good Turn_ and watching the boys as they made their way +up the wharf. + +"Boy Scouts," they heard someone say. + +There was the usual good-natured curiosity which follows scouts when +they are away from home and which they have come to regard as a matter +of course, but the big yellow flag seemed to carry no particular meaning +to anyone here. + +They walked up to the station where they asked the operator if he had +seen the searchlight message or heard anything about it, but he had not. +They inquired who was the night watchman on the wharf, hunted him out, +and asked him. He had seen the light and wondered what and where it was. +That was all. + +"Foiled again!" said Roy. + +They made inquiries of almost everyone they saw, going into a nearby +hotel and several of the stores. They inquired at the fire house, where +they thought men would have been up at night who might be expected to +know the Morse code, but the spokesman there shook his head. + +"A fellow who was with us got locked in a freight car," Roy explained, +"and we signaled to people up this way to stop the train." + +The man smiled; apparently he did not take Roy's explanation very +seriously. "Now if you could only get that convict that escaped down +yonder----" + +"We have no interest in him," said Roy, shortly. + +He and Tom had both counted on Poughkeepsie with its police force and +fire department and general wide-awakeness, and they went back to the +_Good Turn_ pretty well discouraged, particularly as the good people of +whom they had inquired had treated them with an air of kindly +indulgence, smiling at their story, saying that the scouts were a +wide-awake lot, and so forth; interested, but good-naturedly skeptical. +One had said, "Are you making believe to telegraph that way? Well, it's +good fun, anyway." Another asked if they had been reading dime novels. +The patronizing tone had rather nettled the boys. + +"I'd like to have told that fellow that if we _had_ been reading dime +novels, we wouldn't have had time to learn the Morse code," said Roy. + +_"The Motor Boat Heroes_!" mocked Tom. + +"Yes, volume three thousand, and they haven't learned how to run a gas +engine yet! Get out your magnifying glass, Tom; what's that, a village, +up there?" + +"A house." + +"Some house, too," said Roy, looking at the diminutive structure near +the shore. "Put your hand down the chimney and open the front door, +hey?" + +But as they ran in nearer the shore other houses showed themselves +around the edge of the hill and here, too, was a little wharf with +several people upon it and near it, on the shore, a surging crowd on the +edge of which stood several wagons. + +"Guess they must be having a mass meeting about putting a new spring on +the post-office door," said Roy. "Somebody ought to lay a paperweight on +that village a windy day like this. It might blow away. Close your +throttle a little, Tom and put your timer back; we'll run in and see +what's up." + +"You don't suppose all that fuss can have anything to do with Pee-wee, +do you?" Tom asked. + +"No, it looks more as if a German submarine had landed there. There +wouldn't be so much of a rumpus if they'd got the kid." + +But in another moment Roy's skeptical mood had changed as he saw a tall, +slender fellow in brown standing at the end of the wharf with arms +outspread. + +"What's he doing--posing for the movies?" + +"He's semaphoring," Tom answered. + +"I'll be jiggered if he isn't!" said Roy, all interest at once. +"C--O--M--E---- I--(he makes his I too much like his C)--N. _What do you +know about that!_ Come in!" + +The stranger held what seemed to be a large white placard in either hand +in place of a flag and his motions were not as clear-cut as they should +have been, but to Roy, with whom, as he had often said, the semaphore +code was like "pumpkin pie," the message was plain. + +As they ran alongside the wharf the khaki-clad signaler greeted them +with the scout salute. + +"Pretty brisk out on the water this morning?" he said. "We got your +message--we were out canoeing last night; you use the International +code, don't you?" + +"Have you got him?" Roy asked anxiously. + +"Oh, yes, he's here; pulled in somewhere around midnight, I guess. He +stayed all night with one of our troop; he's up there now getting his +breakfast. Great kid, isn't he?" he laughed. "He was telling us about +rice cakes. We're kind of out of date up here, you know. I was a little +balled up on your spacing," he added as they went up the wharf. "I +haven't got the International down very good. Yes, we were drifting +around, a couple of us, telling Ford jokes, when you sprung it on us." + +"Have you got the signaling badge?" said Roy. + +"Oh, yes, I managed to pull that; I'm out for the star now." + +"You'll get it," said Tom. + +"Is the kid all right?" Roy asked. + +"Oh, sure; but he had some pretty rough handling, I guess. It was quite +a little movie show when we dragged the other one out. Lucky the station +agent and the constable were there. He's up there now waiting for the +men from Ossining." + +Through the surging crowd Tom and Roy could see, sitting on a bench at +the station, a man in convict garb, with his hands manacled together and +a guard on either side of him. In the broad light of day he was a +desperate-looking creature, as he sat with his ugly head hanging low, +apparently oblivious to all about him. + +"I don't understand," said Roy. + +"Didn't you know about him?" + +"Not a thing--except we did know someone got away from Sing Sing the +other night--but we never thought----" + +"Didn't you know he was in the same car? That's why the little fellow +couldn't get away. He'd have come back to you, sure." + +Roy doubted it, but he said nothing and presently the mystery was +cleared up by the arrival on the scene of Pee-wee himself, accompanied +by several scouts. They were laughing merrily and seemed greatly elated +that the boat had come; but Pee-wee was rather embarrassed and held back +until Roy dragged him forward. + +"Kiddo," said he, looking straight into the boy's face, "the _Good Turn_ +couldn't have lived another day without you. So you did hit the railroad +after all, didn't you? Gee, it's good to see you; you've caused us more +worry----" he put his arm over Pee-wee's shoulder and turned away with +him, and the others, being good scouts, had sense enough not to follow. + +"Pee-wee," said Roy, "don't try to tell me--that can wait. Listen, +kiddo. We're in the same boat, you and I. We each wrote a letter that we +shouldn't have written, but yours was received and mine wasn't--thanks +to Tom. We've got to forget about both those letters, Pee-wee. I was +ashamed of mine before I'd finished writing it. There's no good talking +about it now. You're with us because we want you with us, not because +Mary Temple wanted it, but because _I_ want you and Tom wants you; do +you hear? You know who it is that's always doing something for someone +and never getting any credit for it, don't you? It's Tom Slade. He saved +me from being a crazy fool--from sending that letter to Mary. And I came +to my senses the next day. He tracked you to that car, only it always +seems to work around so that someone else gets all the glory. It makes +me feel like a---- Listen to them over there now, talking about +_signaling_. Pee-wee, you gave us an awful scare. It didn't seem natural +on top of the cabin last night without you--you little mascot! We're not +going to have another word to say about this, kid--I'm your patrol +leader, remember. We're going to hit it straight for camp now--the three +of us--the Big Three--and you're with us because we can't do without +you. Do you get that?" + +"Roy," said Pee-wee, speaking with difficulty. "I--I had an--adventure." + +"Well, I should think you did." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +TEMPLE CAMP + + +The scouts of the village stood upon the wharf and waved a last good-bye +to the three as the _Good Turn_ chugged merrily away. + +"I'm going to give that fellow the full salute," said Tom, raising his +hand to his forehead. "He's a wonder." + +The scouts on shore received this tribute to their comrade with shouts, +throwing their hats in the air and giving three lusty cheers for the +"Silver Foxes and the Elks" as the launch, swerving out into midstream, +bent her course for Catskill Landing. + +"He sure is a wonder," said Roy. + +"I told him all about you," chimed in Pee-wee, "and all the stunts you +can do." + +"He seems to be prouder of his Ford jokes than of his signal work," +laughed Roy. "He----" + +"Oh, crinkums, he knows some dandy Ford jokes, and his wrist is so +strong from paddling that he can stick a shovel in the ground and turn +it around with one hand; oh, he's got that paddle twist down fine, Roy; +but, gee, he says you're all right; even before you came he said that; +as soon as I told him who it was that signaled----" + +"Do you think they'll come up?" Roy interrupted. + +"Sure they will; I told them all about the camp and how they could have +a cabin to themselves--they're only a small troop, one patrol, and he +wants to know you better; gee, I told him all about you and how you +could----" + +"All right, kiddo," laughed Roy. + +"They're coming up in August. Say, that fellow's got eleven merit +badges, but the one thing he's crazy to get is the gold cross." + +"He'll get it," said Tom, who had been wiping the engine. + +"He says the trouble is," added Pee-wee, "that he can't save anybody's +life with great danger to his own--that's what it says in the Manual, +isn't it?" + +"Yes," said Tom, quietly. + +"He says the trouble is nobody ever gets in danger. The trouble with his +troop is they all know how to swim and they're so blamed clever that he +never has a chance to rescue one of them. He said he tipped the canoe +over with one fellow and the fellow just wouldn't be saved; he swam +around and dived and wouldn't let Garry imperil his life--and that's the +only way you can do it, Roy. You've got to imperil your own life, and he +says he never gets a chance to imperil his life." + +"Must be discouraging," said Roy. + +"Oh, jiminys, you'd laugh to hear him talk; he's got that quiet way +about him, Roy--sober like. I told him there's lots of different ways a +feller can imperil his life." + +"Sure, fifty-seven varieties," said Roy. "Well, I'm glad they treated +you so well, kid, and I hope we'll have a chance to pay them back. What +do you say we tie up in Kingston and have a soda?" + +Early the next day they came in sight of Catskill Landing. Roy stood on +top of the cabin like Columbus, his rapt gaze fixed upon the dock. + +"We have arrove," said he. "Gee, I'm sorry it's over." + +[Illustration] + +The trip _had_ been enjoyable, but now their every thought was centered +upon Temple Camp to which they were so near and they were filled with +delightful anticipations as they made ready for the hike which still lay +before them. The boating club, with the hospitality which a love of the +water seems always to inspire in its devotees, gave them a mooring buoy +and from this, having made their boat fast, they rowed ashore and set +out with staves and duffel bags for the quaint little village of Leeds. + +The distance to Leeds depends upon who is making the journey, or from +whom you get your information. The farmers will tell you it is five +miles. The summer boarders are likely to tell you that it is ten. To be +exact, it is somewhere between two miles and twenty miles, and you can't +get back to Catskill Landing for dinner. + +"I think it's ten miles there and twenty miles back," said Roy; "_we_ +should worry! When we get to Leeds we make our grand dash for the lake." + +"Like Peary," said Pee-wee, already bubbling over with excitement. + +"Something like him, yes." + +Their way took them through a beautiful hilly country and for a while +they had glimpses of the river, which brought them pleasant +reminiscences of their rambling, happy-go-lucky voyage. + +"Who does the _Good Turn_ belong to?" Tom asked. + +"I think it belongs to Honorable Pee-wee Harris," said Roy. "He did the +trick that won it." + +"I'll tell you who she belongs to," said Pee-wee. "She belongs to the +First Bridgeboro Troop, Boy Scouts of America." + +"Raven, Fox and Elk!" said Roy. "Right you are, Pee-wee. United we +stand, divided we squall." + +A tramp of a couple of hours over country roads brought them to Leeds, +and they hiked along its main street contributing not a little to its +picturesqueness with their alert, jaunty air, their brown complexions +which matched so well with the scout attire, their duffel bags and their +long staves. More than one farmer and many an early summer boarder +stared at them and hailed them pleasantly as they passed along. + +"I like this village," said Pee-wee. + +"I'll have it wrapped up for you," said Roy; "Take it, or have it sent?" + +"How do we get to Black Lake?" Tom asked of a man who was lounging +outside one of the shops. + +"Ye ain't goin' to walk it, be ye?" he answered, scrutinizing them +curiously. + +"Right you are," said Roy. "How did you guess?" + +"Ye got a pooty smart walk afore ye," the man said, dubiously. + +"Well, we're pretty smart boys," said Roy. "Break it to us gently, and +let us hear the worst." + +"Baout five mile 'f ye take th' hill rud." + +"Gracious, goodness me!" said Roy, "are they all the same length?" + +"Haouw?" + +"The miles; lads, I'm just reckless enough to do it." + +"Wall," drawled their informant, "Ye go 'long this rud t'l ye come t' a +field whar thar's a red caouw, then ye cut right through th' middle uv +it 'n' go on over a stun wall 'n' ye'll come to a woods rud. Ye foller +that t'l ye come to a side path on the left on it that goes up hill. +Black Lake's t'other side that hill. Ye got to pick yer way up through +the woods 'long that path if ye kin foller it, 'n' when ye git t' the +top ye kin look daown 'n' see th' lake, but ye'll have a smart climb +gettin' daown th' hill." + +"That's us," said Roy. "Thanks--thanks very much." + +When they had gone a little way he halted Tom and Pee-wee with a +dramatic air. + +"Lads," said he, "we've got the _Motor Boat Heroes_ and the _Dauntless +Chums_ and _Submarine Sam_ beaten to a frazzle! We're the _Terrible Trio +Series_, volume two million. Lads, get out your dirks and keep up stout +hearts. We have to cut through the middle of a red cow! That man said +so!" + +Three-quarters of an hour more along an apparently disused road and they +came upon a trail which was barely discernible, leading up a steep and +densely wooded hill. In places they had to climb over rugged terraces, +extricating themselves from such mazes of tangled underbrush as they had +never before seen. Now and then the path seemed to peter out and they +found it again with difficulty and only by the skilful use of scout +tracking lore. The long, steep climb was filled with difficulties, but +they pressed on amazed at the wildness all about them. + +At last, by dint of much hard effort and after many wasted steps through +loss of the trail, they came out upon the summit, and looked down upon +a sight which sent a thrill to all three. The other side of the hill +was, perhaps, not as steep as the side which they had mounted, but it +was thickly wooded and at its base was a sheet of water surrounded by +lofty hills, all covered with dense forest, which extended right down to +the water's edge. The lake was perhaps a mile long, and lay like a dark +jewel amid the frowning heights which closed it in. The trees along +shore were dimly reflected in the still, black water. The quiet of the +spot was intense. It was relieved by no sign of habitation, save a +little thin, uncertain column of smoke which rose from among the trees +on the farther shore. + +The solemnity of the scene, the blackness and isolation of that sheet of +water, the dense woods, rising all around it and shutting out the world, +was quite enough to cast a spell on anyone, and the three boys looked +about them awestruck and for a moment speechless. + +"Jiminy crinkums!" said Pee-wee, at length. + +Tom only shook his head. + +"Reminds you of Broadway and Forty-second Street," said Roy. + +They started down the hill and found that their descent was quite as +difficult as the ascent had been, but at last they reached the foot and +now, from this lower viewpoint they could catch a glimpse of the wood +interior on the opposite shore. There were several log cabins +harmonizing in color with the surrounding forest and, therefore, +inconspicuous. Farther from the shore the boys glimpsed another and +larger structure and at the water's edge they now saw a boat drawn up. + +It was evident that the way they had come was not the usual way to reach +the camp, for there was no sign of trail along the shore, and to pick +their way around, with the innumerable obstacles which beset the way, +would have taken several hours. + +"It must be lively around here on Saturday nights with the crowd out +doing their marketing, and the movie shows----" began Roy. + +"Aw, shut up!" said Pee-wee. + +They raised their voices in unison and shouted, and the echo resounded +from the hills across the water, almost as loud and distinguishable as +their own call. Roy yelled long and loud, slapping his open lips with +the palm of his hand, and a pandemonium of similar sounds came back as +if from a multitude of voices. + +"I tell you, when John Temple does a thing he does it right!" said +Pee-wee. "Gee, you can't deny that!" + +In a few moments a man approached on the opposite shore and leisurely +got into the boat. As he rowed across, he looked around once in a while, +and as the boat drew near the boys saw that its occupant had iron gray +hair, a long drooping moustache, and a face deeply wrinkled and browned +almost to a mulatto hue. + +"Hello," called Roy. "Is that Temple Camp over there? I guess we came in +the back way." + +"Thet's it," said the man. "You some o' the Bridgeboro boys?" + +His voice was low and soft, as of one who has lived long in the woods by +himself. There was a humorous twinkle in his eye which the boys liked. +He was long and lanky and wore khaki trousers and a coarse gray flannel +shirt. His arms, which were bare, were very sinewy. Altogether, the +impression which he made on the boys was that he was perfectly +self-possessed and at ease, so absolutely sure of himself that nothing +in all the wide world could frighten him or disconcert him. The +President of the United States, kings, emperors, millionaires--including +John Temple--might want to be rowed across and this man would come +leisurely over and get them, but he would not hurry and he would be no +more embarrassed or flustered at meeting them than a tree would be. +Nature, the woods and mountains and prairies, had put their stamp upon +him, had whispered their secrets to him, and civilization could not +phase him. That was the way he struck the boys, who from being scouts +had learned to be observant and discerning. + +"Are you Mr. Rushmore?" Tom asked, and as the man nodded assent he +continued, "My name is Tom Slade; we're members of the Bridgeboro Troop +and I'm the one selected to help you. I don't know if you expected me +yet, but my scoutmaster and Mr. Temple thought I better come ahead of +the other fellows so's to help you and get acquainted--like. These +fellows came with me just for fun, but, of course, they want to help get +things ready. The rest are coming up in July." + +This was a good deal for Tom to say at a stretch, and it fell to the +voluble Pee-wee later to edify Mr. Rushmore with all the details of +their trip, winding up with a glowing peroration on Roy's greatness. + +"Waal, I reck'n I'm glad ye've come--the hull three on ye," Jeb Rushmore +drawled. + +"That's some trail over that hill," said Roy, as they rowed across. "We +lost it about a dozen times." + +"Thet? Thet ain't no trail," said Jeb. "Thet's a street--a thurafare. +I'm a-goin' t' test you youngsters out follerin' thet on a dark night." + +"Have a heart!" said Roy. "I could never pick that out with a +flashlight." + +"A what? Ye won't hev no light o' no sort, not ef _I_ know it." + +The boys laughed. "Well, I see we're up against the real thing," said +Roy, "but if that's a thoroughfare, I'd like to see a trail--that's +all." + +"Ye don' need ter see it," drawled Jeb. "Ye jest _feel_ it." + +"You must have a pretty good sense of touch," said Roy. + +"Ye don' feel it with your hands, youngster, ye jest _sense_ it." + +"_Good night!_" said Roy. + +Tom said nothing. He had been watching Mr. Rushmore and hanging with +rapt attention on his every word. + +They found the hill on the opposite shore not as steep as it had looked +from across the water, and here at its base, in the dim solitude by the +shore, was Temple Camp. There was a large open pavilion built of +untrimmed wood, which would accommodate eight or ten troops, allowing to +each some measure of privacy and there were as many as a dozen log +cabins, some large enough for two or three patrols, others intended +evidently to accommodate but one. There was a shack for the storage of +provisions and equipment, in which the boys saw among other things piles +upon piles of wooden platters. + +"Not much dishwashing here," said Pee-wee, joyfully. + +Here, also, were half a dozen tents and every imaginable article +necessary to camp life. Close by was a cooking shack and outside this +several long mess boards with rough seats; and just beyond was a spring +of clear water. + +Jeb Rushmore had a cabin to himself upon the outside of which sprawled +the skins of as many as a dozen different sorts of animals--the trophies +of his life in the West. + +John Temple had certainly done the thing right; there was no doubt of +that. He had been a long time falling, but when he fell he fell hard. +Temple Camp comprised one hundred acres of woodland--"plenty of room to +grow in," as Jeb said. It was more than a camp; it was really a +community, and had somewhat the appearance of a frontier trading post. +In its construction very little bark had been taken from the wood; the +whole collection of buildings fitted well in their wild surroundings; +there wasn't a jarring note. + +But Temple Camp was unique not only in its extent, its rustic character +and its magnificent situation; it was the fulfilment of a grand dream +which John Temple had dreamed. Any troop of scouts could, by making +timely application to the trustees, go to Temple Camp and remain three +weeks without so much as a cent of cost. There was to be absolutely no +favoritism of any kind (and Jeb Rushmore was the man to see to that), +not even in the case of the Bridgeboro Troop; except that troops from +cities were to be given preference over troops from country districts. +Jeb Rushmore was to be the camp manager, working with the trustees and +the visiting scoutmasters; but as it turned out he became a character in +this scout village, and if he fell short in executive capacity he more +than made up for it in other ways. Before the first season was over +people came miles to see him. There were also a doctor and a cook, +though a troop occupying a cabin could do its own cooking and mess by +itself if it chose. + +There were some rather interesting rules and regulations. If a scout won +a merit badge while at camp this entitled his whole troop to lengthen +its stay by two days, if it so elected. If he won the life scout badge, +four extra days was the reward of his whole troop. The star badge meant +an extra week, the eagle badge ten extra days. A scout winning the +bronze cross was entitled with his troop to occupy "Hero Cabin" and to +remain two extra weeks at camp. The silver cross meant three extra +weeks; the gold cross four extra weeks. If a troop could not +conveniently avail itself of this extra time privilege in the current +season it could be credited with the time and use it, whole or +piecemeal, in subsequent seasons. + +On the lake there were to be several boats which were not yet ready, and +every scout winning a life saving medal was to have a boat named for +him. At the time the boys arrived there was only one boat and that was +named _Mary Temple_. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HERO CABIN + + +The history of Temple Camp during that gala season of its opening would +fill a book; but this is not a history of Temple Camp, and we must pass +at once to those extraordinary happenings which shook the little scout +community to its very center and cast a shadow over the otherwise +pleasant and fraternal life there. + +By the middle of July every inch of space in the pavilion was occupied, +and among the other troops which lodged there was the little troop from +down the Hudson, of which Garry Everson was the leader. Tom had tried to +procure cabin accommodations for these good friends, but the cabins had +all been spoken for before their application came and they had to be +content with the less desirable quarters. During the early days of their +stay the Bridgeboro Troop arrived in a blaze of glory; the Ravens, with +their pride and delight, Doc Carson, first aid boy; the rest of the +Silver Foxes with Westy Martin, Dorry Benton and others; and Tom's own +patrol, the Elks, with Connie Bennett, the Bronson boys, the famous +O'Connor twins, all with brand new outfits, for this was a new patrol. +Three small cabins had been reserved for them and in these they settled +down, each patrol by itself and flying its own flag. Tom, by reason of +his duties, which identified him with the camp as a whole rather than +with any troop or patrol, occupied the cabin with Jeb Rushmore, and +though he was much with the Elks, he had delegated Connie Bennett to +substitute as patrol leader for the time being. + +Garry Everson was a general favorite. Not only had his stunt of +receiving the signal message and restoring the fugitive Pee-wee won him +high regard with the Bridgeboro boys, but his quiet manner and whimsical +humor had made him many friends throughout the camp. He was tall and +slim, but muscular; the water seemed to be his specialty; he was an +expert at rowing and paddling, he could dive in a dozen different ways +and as for swimming, no one at Temple Camp could begin to compete with +him. + +Tom's friendship with Garry Everson had grown quite intimate. They were +both interested in tracking and made many little trips together, for +Tom had much time to himself. + +One morning, as Tom, according to rule, was making his regular +inspection of the pavilion, he lingered for a few minutes in Garry's +corner to chat with him. + +"You're not getting ready to go?" he asked in surprise, noticing that +some of the troop's paraphernalia had been packed. + +"Beginning to get ready," said Garry. "Sit down. Why didn't you bring +your knitting?" + +"I can't stay long," said Tom. "I've got to inspect the cabins yet, and +then I've got to make up the program for campfire yarns to-night. By +the way, couldn't _you_ give us a spiel?" + +"Oh, sure," said Garry. "_The Quest of the Honor Medal_. I'll tell how +nobody ever gets into danger here--or imperils his life, as Pee-wee +would say. I'm going to put a notice up on one of the trees and get you +to read another at mess with the regular announcements: Wanted; by scout +seeking honor medal; someone willing to imperil his life. Suitable +reward. Apply Temple Camp pavilion. Signed, Would-be Hero." + +Tom laughed. + +"I'm like old What's-his-name, Caesar. Ready to do the conquest act, but +nothing more to conquer. Believe me, it's no cinch being a would-be +hero. Couldn't you get bitten by a rattlesnake on one of your tracking +stunts? Get your foot on him, you know, and he'll be wriggling and +squirming to get his head free, and his cruel fangs will be within an +inch of your ankle and you'll just begin to feel them against your +stocking----" + +"Don't," laughed Tom. + +"When all of a sudden I'll come bounding out of the thicket, and I'll +grab him by the head and force his cruel jaws shut and slip an elastic +band around his mug. That ought to pull the silver cross, hey? And I and +my faithful followers would get three extra weeks in camp." + +"Would you like to stay longer?" Tom asked. + +"Foolish question, number three million. Haven't we had the time of our +young lives? I never knew two weeks to go so fast. Never mind, we've got +two days more--and two days _only_ unless I get some answers to my +'ad.'" + +"Where's your patrol this morning?" + +"Stalking; they've a date with a robin. I would have gone along except I +didn't see much chance of any of them imperilling their lives taking +snapshots of robins. So I stayed home to do a little packing--things we +won't need again. But no use thinking about that, I suppose; that's what +I tell them. We've had some good times, all right. Seems a pity we have +to go just when Mr. Temple and his daughter have come. You're a lucky +kid; you stay till the last gun is fired, don't you?" + +"Yes, I'm going to stay till we close up. Come on, stroll up the hill +with me. I've got to raise the colors. If you've only two days more +there's no use moping around in here." + +"All right, wait a minute and I'll be with you--dry the pensive tear, as +your friend Roy would say. He's an all-around scout, isn't he?" + +"Yes, he came right off the cover of the Manual, Mr. Ellsworth says." + +"You're a bully troop, you fellows. Gee, I envy you. Trouble with us," +he continued, as they walked up the hill together, "is we haven't any +scoutmaster. I'm scoutmaster and patrol leader rolled into one. We're +going to get better organized this winter. There's only just the seven +of us, you know, and we haven't got any money. You might think that +because we live in a country village on the Hudson everything's fine and +dandy. But there's blamed little money in our burg. Four of our troop +have to work after school. One works all day and goes to night school +down to Poughkeepsie. I saved up two years to buy that canoe I was in +when I caught your message." + +"Well, you caught it all right," said Tom, with a note of pride in his +usually expressionless voice. + +"We'll come out all right, though," said Garry, cheerily. "That's what +I'm always telling them; only we're so gol-blamed poor." + +"I know what it is," said Tom, after a pause. "Maybe that's what makes +us such good friends, sort of. I lived in a tenement down in Bridgeboro. +I've got to thank Roy for everything--Roy and Mr. Ellsworth. They all +treat me fine and you'd never know most of them are rich fellows; but +somehow--I don't just know how to tell you---- but you know how a scout +is supposed to be a brother to every other scout. Well, it seems to me, +kind of, as if a poor fellow is a brother to every other poor +fellow--and--and--I understand." + +"It's easy to see they all think a lot of you," said Garry. "Well, we've +had a rattling good time up here and I don't suppose we'll feel any +worse about going away than lots of others will. If you miss one thing +you usually have another to make up. We're all good friends in our +little troop--we have more fun than you could shake a stick at, joshing +each other about different kinds of heroic stunts, to win an honor +medal, and some of them have thought up the craziest things----" + +"I wish you could stay," said Tom. + +"Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, as some old duffer +said." + +The wooded hill sloped upward behind the camp for a distance of some +hundred yards, where it was broken by a sheer precipice forming one side +of a deep gully. This was the work of man, having once been a railroad +cut, but it had been in disuse for many years and was now covered with +vegetation. You could walk up the hill till you came to the brink of +this almost vertical chasm, but you could no more scramble down it than +you could scramble down a well. On the opposite side of the cut the hill +continued upward and the bridging of the chasm by the scouts themselves +had been a subject of much discussion; but up to the present time +nothing had been done and there was no way to continue one's ascent of +the hill except to follow along the edge of the cut to a point where the +precipice was low enough to allow one to scramble down--a walk of +several miles. + +Right on the brink of this old overgrown cut was a shack which had +probably once been used by the workmen. Although on the Camp property it +was rather too far removed from the other buildings to be altogether +convenient as a living place, but its isolated situation had attracted +the boys, and the idea of calling it Hero Cabin was an inspiration of +Roy's. Mr. Keller, one of the trustees, had fallen in with the notion +and while deprecating the use of this remote shack for regular living +quarters, had good-naturedly given his consent that it be used as the +honored domicile of any troop a member of which had won an honor medal. +Perhaps he thought that, honor medals being not so easily won, it would +be quite safe to make this concession. + +In any event, it was quite enough for the boys. A committee was formed +with a member from each troop to make the shack a suitable abode for a +hero and his court. Impulsive Roy was the moving spirit of the plan; +Pee-wee was its megaphone, and in the early days of the Bridgeboro +troop's stay a dozen or more scouts had worked like beavers making a +path up through the woods, covering the shack with bark, and raising a +flagpole near it. They had hiked into Leeds and bought material for a +flag to fly above the shack showing the name, HERO CABIN, and they had +fitted it with rustic bunks inside. + +The idea was a good one, the boys had taken a great deal of pride and +pleasure in the work of preparation, the whole thing had given rise to +much friendly jealousy as to what troop should be honored by residence +here and what fortunate scout should be escorted to this new abode amid +acclamations. Probably every troop in camp had dreams of occupying it (I +am sure that Pee-wee had), and of spending its "honor time" here. + +But apparently Mr. Keller, who was not much given to dreaming, was right +in his skeptical conjecture for Hero Cabin remained unoccupied, though +Tom made it a point to tramp up and raise and lower the colors there +each day. + +"Some day, maybe next season," said he as they stood on the brink and +gazed across the deep gully, "they'll bring somebody up here riding on +their shoulders. You can't win an honor medal every day in the week. I +think the bronze cross would be enough for _me_--let alone the silver or +the gold one. I'd be satisfied with that, wouldn't you?" + +"Except that the gold cross gives you four extra weeks," said Garry, +"and, of course, the more risk a fellow takes, the greater the honor +is." He picked up a pebble and threw it at a tree across the gully. "I'd +rather have one of those medals," he said, "than anything in the +world--and I want a wireless outfit pretty bad, too. But besides that" +(he kept throwing pebbles across the gully and spoke half absently), +"besides that, it would be fine to have that extra time. Maybe we +couldn't use it _all_ this season, but--look, I can hit that thin tree +every time--but I'm thinking of the little codger mostly; you know the +one I mean--with the light hair?" + +"The little fellow that coughs?" + +"He doesn't cough any more. He did before we came up here. His father +died of consumption. No, he doesn't cough much now--guess it agrees with +him up here. He's---- There, I hit it six times in succession." + +For a few minutes Tom said nothing, but watched as Garry, time after +time, hit the slender tree across the gully. + +"I often dream about having an honor medal, too," he said, after a +while. "We haven't got any in our troop. Roy'll be the one, I guess. I +suppose the gold cross is the highest award they'll ever have, hey?" + +"Guess so." + +"There's nothing better than gold, is there?" + +"It isn't because there's nothing better than gold," said Garry, still +intent upon hitting his mark. "It's because there's nothing better than +heroism--bravery--risking your life." + +"Diamonds--they might have a diamond cross, hey?" + +"What for?" + +"In case they found anything that's better than heroism.[missing: "?] + +"What?" + +"Oh, I don't know. There might be." + +Garry turned and laughingly clapped Tom on the back. "I might push you +over this precipice and then jump down after you, hey?" he laughed. + +"You'd be crushed to death yourself," said Tom. + +"Well, stop talking nonsense or I'll do it. Come on, get your chores +done and we'll go down and have a swim. What'd' you say?" + +He ran his hand through Tom's thick shock of hair and laughed again. +"Come on, forget it," said he. "I've only got two days more here and +I'm not going to miss a morning dip. Come on, I'll show you the double +twist dive." + +He put his arm through Tom's with the contagious gaiety that was his, +and started down the hill with him toward the lake. + +"Come on, wake up, you old grouch," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +COWARD! + + +There were not many boys bathing at the time this thing happened. Roy +and several of the Silver Foxes were at a little distance from the shore +practising archery, and a number of scouts from other troops lolled +about watching them. Three or four boys from a Pennsylvania troop were +having an exciting time with the rowboat, diving from it out in the +middle of the lake. Pee-wee Harris and Dory Bronson, of Tom's patrol, +were taking turns diving from the spring-board. Tom and Garry joined +them and, as usual, whenever Garry was diving, boys sauntered down to +the shore and watched. + +"Here goes the Temple Twist," said he, turning a complete somersault and +then jerking himself sideways so as to strike the water crossways to the +spring-board. + +There was some applause as he came up spluttering. Tom tried it, but +could not get the twist. + +"Try this on your piano," said Garry, diving and striking the water +flat. + +"That's what you call the Bridgeboro Botch," he laughed, as Tom went +sprawling into the water. "Hey, Blakeley," he shouted to Roy, "did you +see the Bridgeboro Botch?" + +"There's no use their trying _your_ tricks," Roy called in genuine +admiration. "I'm coming in in a few minutes, myself." + +But Tom dived very well for all that, and so did Pee-wee, but Dory +Bronson was new at the game. + +The thing which was destined to have such far-reaching consequences +happened suddenly and there was some difference of opinion among the +eye-witnesses as to just how it occurred, but all were agreed as to the +main fact. Dory had just dived, it was Pee-wee's turn next, Tom would +follow, and then Garry, who meanwhile had stepped up to where Roy and +the others were shooting, and was chatting with them. + +They had dived in this order like clockwork for some time, so that when +Dory did not appear on the board the others looked about for him. Just +at that moment a piercing cry arose, and a dozen pairs of eyes were +turned out on the lake where the boy was seen struggling frantically. +It was evident that the boys in the boat were pulling to his assistance, +but they were too far away and meanwhile he floundered and struggled +like a madman, sending up cries that echoed from the hills. How he had +gotten out so far no one knew, unless indeed he had tried to swim to the +boat. + +The sight of a human being struggling frantically in the water and lost +to all sense of reason by panic fright is one to strike terror to a +stout heart. Even the skilful swimmer whose courage is not of the +stoutest may balk at the peril. That seemed to be the feeling which +possessed Tom Slade as he stood upon the end of the spring-board and +instead of diving cast a hurried look to where Garry Everson was talking +with Roy. + +It all happened in a moment, the cries from the lake, Tom's hesitation, +his swift look toward Roy and Garry, and his evident relief as the +latter rushed to the shore and plunged into the water. He stood there on +the end of the high spring-board, conspicuous against the blue sky, with +his eyes fixed upon the swimmer. He saw the struggle in the water, saw +the frantic arms clutch at Garry, watched him as he extricated himself +from that insane grasp, saw him catch the struggling figure with the +"neck grip" as the only means of saving both lives, and watched him as +he swam toward shore with his now almost unconscious burden. What he +thought, how he felt, no human being knew. He stood motionless like a +statue until the growing crowd below him set up a cheer. Then he went +down and stood among them. + +"Didn't you see him drowning there?" a fellow demanded of him. + +"Yes, I did," said Tom. + +The other stared at him for a moment with a peculiar expression, then +swung on his heel and strode away. + +Tom craned his neck to see and spoke to those nearest him, but they only +answered perfunctorily or ignored him altogether. He moved around to +where Roy stood, and Roy, without looking at him, pressed farther into +the crowd. + +"That's he," a boy near him whispered to his neighbor; "stood on the end +of the board, watching. I didn't think we had any cowards here." + +In every face and most of all in the faces of his own troop Tom saw +contempt plainly written. He could not go away from them, for that might +excite fresh comment; so he remained, trying to disregard the +significant glances and swallowing hard to keep down the lump which kept +rising in his throat. + +Soon the doctor came, relieving Doc Carson of the Ravens, and the +half-drowned boy was taken to his cabin. + +"He--he's all right, isn't he?" Tom asked of the doctor. + +"Yes," said the doctor, briefly. "He's one of your own patrol, isn't +he?" + +"Yes--sir." + +The doctor looked at him for a moment and then turned away. + +"Hello, old man," said Garry, as he passed him, hurrying to the +pavilion. "Cold feet, eh? Guess you got a little rattled. Never mind." + +The words stabbed Tom like a knife, but at least they were friendly and +showed that Garry did not entirely condemn him. + +He paused at the Elks cabin, the cabin of his own patrol, where most of +the members of his troop were gathered. One or two made way for him in +the doorway, but did not speak. Roy Blakeley was sitting on the edge of +Dory's couch. + +"Roy," said Tom, still hesitating in the doorway of his own patrol +cabin, "can I speak to you a minute?" + +Roy came out and silently followed Tom to a point out of hearing of the +others. + +"I--I don't care so much what the others think," said Tom. "If they want +to think I'm a coward, all right. But I want to tell _you_ how it was so +_you_ won't think so." + +"Oh, you needn't mind about me," said Roy. + +"You and Garry--I----" + +"I guess _he_ knows what to think, too," said Roy, coldly. "I guess he +has his opinion of the First Bridgeboro Troop's courage." + +"That's why I care most," said Tom, "on account of disgrace for one +being disgrace for all--and honor, too. But there's something----" + +"Well, you should have thought of that," Roy interrupted impetuously, +"when you stood there and let a strange fellow rescue one of your own +patrol. You practically asked him to do it--everybody saw." + +"There's something----" + +"Oh, sure, _there's something_! I suppose you'll be able to dig +something out of the Handbook, defending cowards! You're great on the +Handbook." + +Again that something came up in Tom's throat and the ugly word cut him +so that he could hardly speak. + +"No, there isn't anything in the Manual about it," said he, in his slow +monotone, "because I looked." + +Roy sneered audibly. + +"But I thought there might be another law--a 13th one about----" + +"Oh, you make me sick with your 13th law!" Roy flared up. "Is that what +you were dreaming about when you stood on the end of that board and +beckoned to Garry----" + +"I didn't beckon, I just looked----" + +"Just looked! Well, I don't claim to be up on the law like you, but the +10th law's good enough for me,--'A scout is brave; he has the courage to +face danger in spite of fear.' This fellow will have the bronze cross, +maybe the silver one, for rescuing one of _our_ troop, one of _your own_ +patrol. _You_ know how we made a resolution that the first honor medal +should come to us! And here you stand there watching and let a stranger +walk away with it!" + +"Do you think he'll get it?" Tom asked. + +"Of course, he'll get it." + +Tom smiled slightly. "And _you_ think I'm a coward?" + +"I'm not saying what I think. I never _did_ think so before. I know that +fellow will have the cross and they'll be the honor troop because in +_our_ troop we've got----" + +"Don't say that again, Roy; please don't--I----" + +Roy looked at him for one moment; perhaps in that brief space all the +history of their friendship came rushing back upon him, and he was on +the point of stretching out his hand and letting Tom explain. But the +impulse passed like a sudden storm, and he walked away. + +Tom watched him until he entered the patrol shack, and then went on to +his own cabin. Jeb Rushmore was out with the class in tracking, teaching +them how to _feel_ a trail, and Tom sat down on his own couch, glad to +be alone. He thought of the members of his own troop, in and about his +own patrol cabin, ministering to Dory Bronson. He wondered what they +were saying about him and whether Roy would discuss him with others. He +didn't think Roy would do that. He wondered what Mr. Ellsworth would +think--and Jeb Rushmore. + +He got up and, fumbling in his duffel bag, fished out the thumbed and +dilapidated Handbook, which was his trusty friend and companion. He +opened it at page 64. He knew the place well enough, for he had many +times coveted what was offered there. There, standing at attention and +looking straight at him, was the picture of a scout, very trim and +natty, looking, as he had often thought, exactly like Roy. Beside it was +another picture of a scout tying knots and he recalled how Roy had +taught him the various knots. His eyes scanned the type above till he +found what he sought. + + "The bronze medal is mounted on a red ribbon and is awarded to a + scout who has actually saved life where risk is involved. + + "The silver medal is mounted on a blue ribbon and is awarded to a + scout who saves life with considerable risk to himself. + + "The gold medal is mounted on white ribbon and is the highest + possible award for heroism. It may be granted to a scout who has + gravely endangered his own life in actually saving the life of + another." + +"It'll mean the silver one for him, all right," said Tom to himself, +"and that's three more weeks. I wish it could be the gold one." + +Idly he ran through the pages of the book, pausing here and there. On +page 349 were pictures of scouts rescuing drowning persons. He knew the +methods well and looked at the pictures wistfully. Again at page 278 was +some matter about tracking, with notes in facsimile handwriting. This +put the idea into his mind that he might insert a little handwriting of +his own at a certain place, and he turned to the pages he knew best of +all--33 and 34. He read the whole twelve laws, but none seemed quite to +cover his case. So he wrote in a very cramped hand after Law 12 these +words: + + "13--A scout can make a sacrifice. He can keep from winning a medal + so somebody else can get it. Especially he must do this if it does + the other scout more good. That is better than being a hero." + +He turned to the fly leaf and wrote in sprawling, reckless fashion: "I +am not a coward. I hate cowards." Then he tore the page out and threw it +away. He hardly knew what he was doing. After a few minutes he turned to +page 58, where the picture of the honor medal was. As he sat gazing at +it, loud shouting arose in the distance. Nearer and nearer it came, and +louder it grew, until it swelled into a lusty chorus. Around the corner +of the pavilion they came, two score or more of scouts, yelling and +throwing their hats into the air. Tom looked up and listened. Through +the little window he could glimpse them as they passed, carrying Garry +Everson upon their shoulders, and shrieking themselves hoarse. Pee-wee +was there and Artie Val Arlen, of the Ravens, and the little +sandy-haired fellow with the cough, running to keep up and yelling +proudly for his chief and idol. + +"Hurrah for the silver cross!" they called. + +"Three cheers for the honor scout!" + +"Three cheers and three extra weeks!" + +They paused within a dozen feet of where Tom sat, and pushing, elbowing, +fell into the woods path leading up to Hero Cabin. Tom listened until +their voices, spent by the distance, were scarcely audible. Then he fell +to gazing again at the picture of the medal. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +OSTRACIZED + + +The question was as to the bronze cross or the silver one, and it was +the silver one which came. Roy, who had been the most observant witness, +testified before the Honor Court that the frantic struggling of the +rescued scout must have incurred danger to the rescuer and that only his +dexterity and skill had saved him. + +But after all, who can say how much risk is involved in such an act. It +is only in those deeds of sublime recklessness where one throws his life +into the balance as a tree casts off a dried leaf that the true measure +of peril is known. That is where insanity and heroism seem to join +hands. And hence the glittering cross of the yellow metal lying against +its satin background of spotless white stands alone by itself, apart +from all other awards. + +There was no thought of it here and least of all by Garry himself. When +asked by the court how much he believed he had jeopardized his life, he +said he did not know, and that at the time he had thought only of saving +Dory Bronson. He added that all scouts know the different life-saving +"wrinkles" and that they have to use their judgment. His manner had a +touch of nonchalance, or rather, perhaps of indifference, which struck +one or two of the visiting scoutmasters unfavorably. But Jeb Rushmore, +who was in the room, sitting far back with his lanky arms clasped about +his lanky limbs, and a shrewd look in his eyes, was greatly impressed, +and it was largely because of his voice that the recommendation went to +headquarters for the silver medal. In all of the proceedings the name of +Tom Slade was not once mentioned, though his vantage point on the +spring-board ought to have made his testimony of some value. + +So Garry Everson and his little one-patrol troop took up their abode in +Hero Cabin, and the little sandy-haired fellow with the cough raised and +lowered the colors each day, as Tom had done, and ate more heartily down +at mess, and made birchbark ornaments in the sunshine up at his beloved +retreat, and was very proud of his leader; but he had little use for Tom +Slade, because he believed Tom was a coward. + +In due time the Silver Cross itself came, and scouts who strolled up to +visit the cabin on the precipice noticed that sometimes the little +sandy-haired fellow wore it, so that it came to be rumored about that +Garry Everson cared more about him than he did about the medal. There +were times when Garry took his meals up to him and often he was not at +campfire in the evenings. But the little fellow improved each day and +every one noticed it. + +In time the feeling toward Tom subsided until nothing was left of it +except a kind of passive disregard of him. Organized resentment would +not have been tolerated at Temple Camp and it is a question whether the +scouts themselves would have had anything to do with such a conspiracy. +But the feeling had changed toward him and was especially noticeable in +certain quarters. + +Perhaps if he had lived among his own troop and patrol as one of them +the estrangement would have been entirely forgotten, but he lived a life +apart, seeing them only at intervals, and so the coldness continued. As +the time drew near for the troop to leave, Tom fancied that the feeling +against him was stronger because they were thinking of the extra time +they might have had along with the honor they had lost, but he was +sensitive and possibly imagined that. He sometimes wondered if Roy and +the others were gratified to know that these good friends of their happy +journey to camp could remain longer. But the camp was so large and the +Honor Troop stayed so much by itself that the Bridgeboro boys hardly +realized what it meant to that little patrol up at Hero Cabin. Tom often +thought wistfully of the pleasant cruise up the river and wondered if +Roy and Pee-wee thought of it as they made their plans to go home in the +_Good Turn_. + +Two friends Tom had, at all events, and these were Jeb Rushmore and +Garry Everson. The Honor Troop was composed mostly of small boys and all +except the little boy who was Garry's especial charge were in Tom's +tracking class. He used to put them through the simpler stunts and then +turn them over to Jeb Rushmore. Apparently, they did not share the +general prejudice and he liked to be with them. + +One afternoon he returned with three or four of these youngsters and +lingered on the hill to chat with Garry. He had come to feel more at +home here than anywhere else. + +"How's the kid?" Tom asked, as the sandy haired boy came out of the +cabin and passed him without speaking. + +"Fine. You ought to see him eat. He's a whole famine in himself. You +mustn't mind him," he added; "he has notions." + +"Oh," said Tom, "I'm used to being snubbed. It just amuses me in his +case." + +"How's tracking?" + +"Punk. There's so much dust you can't make a track. What we need is +rain, so we can get some good plain prints. That's the only way to teach +a tenderfoot. Jeb says dust ought to be good enough, but he's a fiend." + +"He could track an aeroplane," said Garry. "Everything's pretty dry, I +guess." + +"You'd say so," said Tom, "if you were down through those east woods. +You could light a twig with a sun glass. They're having forest fires up +back of Tannerstown." + +"I saw the smoke," said Garry. + +"There's a couple of hoboes down the cut a ways; we tracked them today, +cooking over a loose fire. I tried to get them to cut it out; told 'em +they'd have the whole woods started. They only laughed. I'm going to +report it to J. R." + +"They on the camp land?" + +"If they were they'd have been off before this." + +They strolled out to the edge of the cut and looked off across the +country beyond where the waning sunlight fell upon the dense woods, +touching the higher trees with its lurid glow. Over that way smoke arose +and curled away in the first twilight. + +"There's some good timber gone to kindling wood over there," said Garry. + +"It's going to blow up to-night," said Tom; "look at the flag." + +They watched the banner as it fluttered and spread in the freshening +breeze. + +"Looks pretty, don't it?" said Tom. "Shall we haul it down?" + +"No, let the kid do it." + +Garry called and the little fellow came over for the task he loved. + +"Sunset," said Garry. "Now just look at his muscle," he added, winking +at Tom. "By the time this precious three weeks is up, he'll be a regular +Samson." + +Garry walked a few paces down the hill with Tom. "I wish I could have +had a chance to thank Mr. Temple when he was here," he said, "for this +bully camp and that extra time arrangement." + +"He deserves thanks," said Tom. + +They walked on for a few moments in silence. + +"You--_you_ don't think I'm a coward, do you?" said Tom, suddenly. "I +wouldn't speak about it to anyone but you. But I can't help thinking +about it sometimes. I wouldn't speak about it even to Roy--now." + +"Of course, I don't. I think you were a little rattled, that's all. I've +been the same myself. For a couple of seconds you didn't know what to +do--you were just up in the air--and by the time you got a grip on +yourself--I had cheated you out of it. You were just going to dive, +weren't you?" + +"Sometimes it's hard to make a fellow understand," said Tom, not +answering the question. "I can't tell you just what I was thinking. +That's my own business. I--I've got it in my Handbook. But all I want to +know is, _you_ don't think I'm a coward, do you?" + +"Sure, I don't." + +Garry turned back and Tom went on down the winding path through the +woods to camp. The breeze, becoming brisker, blew the leaves this way +and that, and as he plodded on through the dusk he had to lower his head +to keep his hat from blowing off. The wind brought with it a faint but +pungent odor which reminded him of the autumn days at home when he and +Roy raked up the leaves and burned them behind the Blakeley house. He +avoided this train of thought. His face was stolid, and his manner +dogged as he hurried on, with the rather clumsy gait which still bore +the faintest trace of the old shuffle Barrel Alley had known so well. + +Near the camp he ran plunk into Roy. + +"Hello," he said. + +"Hello," said Roy, and passed on. + +"Roy," Tom called after him, "I want to speak to you a minute." + +Roy paused. + +"I--I was thinking--do you smell smoke, Roy? It makes me think how we +used to rake up the leaves." + +Roy said nothing. + +"I understand the troop is going home tomorrow and some of you are going +in the _Good Turn_. I hope you'll have a fine trip--like when we came +up. I wish you could all stay longer. It makes me kind of homesick to +see you all go." + +"We might have stayed longer," said Roy, coldly, "only--is that all you +want to say to me?" he broke off. + +"I just want to say good-bye and----" + +"All right, good-bye," said Roy, and walked away. + +Tom watched him for a few seconds, then went on down to supper. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN CROSS + + +The wind had become so strong that it was necessary to move the mess +boards around to the leeward side of the pavilion. Several fellows +remarked on the pungent odor which permeated the air and a couple who +had been stalking spoke of the woods fires over beyond Tannerstown. + +Garry was not at supper, nor the little sandy-haired fellow, but the +others of his patrol came down before the meal was over. + +"Guess we'll cut out yarns to-night," said Jeb Rushmore, "and hike out on +a little tour of inspection." + +"There are a couple of tramps in the woods this side of the cut, right +up the hill a ways," said Tom. + +"We need rain, that's sure," said another scout. + +"Maybe we'll get some with this wind," remarked another. + +"No, I reckon it's a dry wind," said Mr. Rushmore, looking about and +sniffing audibly. "Gol smash it," he added, rising and sniffing still +louder. "Thar's somethin' in the air." + +For a minute he stood near his place, then strode off up the hill a +little way, among the trees, where he paused, listening, like an animal +at bay. They could see his dark form dimly outlined in the darker night. + +"J. R.'s on the scent," remarked Doc. Carson. + +Several fellows rose to join him and just at that minute Westy Martin, +of the Silver Foxes, and a scout from a Maryland troop who had been +stalking, came rushing pell-mell into camp. + +"The woods are on fire!" gasped Westy. "Up the hill! Look!" + +"I seed it," said Jeb. "The wind's bringin' it." + +"You can't get through up there," Westy panted. "We had to go around." + +"Ye couldn't get round by now. B'ys, we're a-goin' ter git it for sure. +It's goin' ter blow fire." + +For a moment he stood looking up into the woods, with the boys about +him, straining their eyes to see the patches of fire which were visible +here and there. Suddenly these patches seemed to merge and make the +night lurid with a red glare, a perfect pandemonium of crackling and +roaring assailed the silent night and clouds of suffocating smoke +enveloped them. + +The fire, like some heartless savage beast, had stolen upon them +unawares and was ready to spring. + +Jeb Rushmore was calm and self-contained and so were most of the boys as +they stood ready to do his bidding. + +"Naow, ye see what I meant when I said a leopard's as sneaky as a fire," +said Jeb. "Here, you Bridgeboro troop and them two Maryland troops and +the troop from Washin't'n," he called, "you make a bucket line like we +practiced. Tom--whar's Tom? And you Oakwood b'ys, git the buckets out'n +the provish'n camp. Line up thar ri' down t' the water's edge and come +up through here. You fellers from Pennsylvany 'n' you others thar, git +the axes 'n' come 'long o' me. Don't git rattled, now." + +Like clockwork they formed a line from the lake up around the camp, +completely encircling it. The fire crept nearer every second, stifling +them with its pungent smoke. Other scouts, some with long axes, others +with belt axes, followed Jeb Rushmore, chopping down the small trees +which he indicated along the path made by this human line. In less than +a minute fifty or more scouts were working desperately felling trees +along the path. Fortunately, the trees were small, and fortunately, too, +the scouts knew how to fell them so that they fell in each case away +from the path, leaving an open way behind the camp. + +Along this open way the line stood, and thus the full buckets passing +from hand to hand with almost the precision of machinery, were emptied +along this open area, soaking it. + +"The rest o' you b'ys," called Jeb, "climb up on the cabins--one on each +cabin, and three or four uv ye on the pavilion. Some o' ye stay below to +pass the buckets up. Keep the roofs wet--that's whar the sparks'll +light. Hey, Tom!" + +As the hurried work went on one of Garry's troop grasped Jeb by the arm. +"How about our cabin?" said he, fearfully. "There are two fellows up +there." + +Jeb paused a moment, but shook his head. "They'll hev ter risk jumpin' +int' th' cut," said he. "No mortal man c'u'd git to 'em through them +woods naow." + +The boy fell back, sick at heart as he thought of those two on the +lonely hill surrounded by flame and with a leap from the precipice as +their only alternative. It was simply a choice between two forms of +awful death. + +The fire had now swept to within a few yards of the outer edge of the +camp, but an open way had been cleared and saturated to check its +advance and the roofs of the shacks were kept soaked by a score or more +of alert workers as a precaution against the blowing sparks. + +Tom Slade had not answered any of Jeb's calls for him. At the time of +his chief's last summons he was a couple of hundred feet from the +buildings, tearing and tugging at one of the overflow tents. Like a +madman and with a strength born of desperation he dragged the pole down +and, wrenching the stakes out of the ground by main force, never +stopping to untie the ropes, he hauled the whole dishevelled mass free +of the paraphernalia which had been beneath it, down to the lake. Duffel +bags rolled out from under it, the uprooted stakes which came along with +it caught among trees and were torn away, the long clumsy canvas trail +rebelled and clung to many an obstruction, only to be torn and ripped as +it was hauled willy-nilly to the shore of the lake. + +In he strode, tugging, wrenching, dragging it after him. Part of it +floated because of the air imprisoned beneath it, but gradually sank as +it became soaked. Standing knee-deep, he held fast to one corner of it +and waited during one precious minute while it absorbed as much of the +water as it could hold. + +It was twice as heavy now, but he was twice as strong, for he was twice +as desperate and had the strength of an unconquerable purpose. The lips +of his big mouth were drawn tight, his shock of hair hung about his +stolid face as with bulldog strength and tenacity he dragged the dead +weight of dripping canvas after him up onto the shore. The water +trickled out of its clinging folds as he raised one side of the soaking +fabric, and dragged the whole mass up to the provision cabin. + +He seized the coil of lasso rope and hung it around his neck, then +raising the canvas, he pulled it over his head like a shawl and pinned +it about him with the steel clutch of his fingers, one hand at neck and +one below. + +Up through the blazing woods he started with the leaden weight of this +dripping winding sheet upon him and catching in the hubbly obstructions +in his path. The water streamed down his face and he felt the chill of +it as it permeated his clothes, but that was well--it was his only +friend and ally now. + +Like some ghostly bride he stumbled up through the lurid night, dragging +the unwieldly train behind him. Apparently no one saw this strange +apparition as it disappeared amid the enveloping flames. + +"Tom--whar's Tom?" called Jeb Rushmore again. + +Up the hill he went, tearing his dripping armor when it caught, and +pausing at last to lift the soaking train and wind that about him also. + +The crackling flames gathering about him like a pack of hungry wolves +hissed as they lapped against his wet shroud, and drew back, baffled, +only to assail him again. The trail was narrow and the flames close on +either side. + +Once, twice, the drying fabric was aflame, but he wrapped it under +wetter folds. His face was burning hot; he strove with might and main +against the dreadful faintness caused by the heat, and the smoke all but +suffocated him. + +On and up he pressed, stooping and sometimes almost creeping, for it was +easier near the ground. Now he held the drying canvas with his teeth +and beat with his hands to extinguish the persistent flames. His power +of resistance was all but gone and as he realized it his heart sank +within him. At last, stooping like some sneaking thing, he reached the +sparser growth near the cut. + +Two boys who had been driven to the verge of the precipice and lingered +there in dread of the alternative they must take, saw a strange sight. A +dull gray mass, with two ghostly hands reaching out and slapping at it, +and a wild-eyed face completely framed by its charred and blackening +shroud, emerged from amid the fire and smoke and came straight toward +them. + +"What is it?" whispered the younger boy, drawing closer to Garry in +momentary fright at the sight of this spectral thing. + +"Don't jump--it's me--Tom Slade! Here, take this rope, quick. I guess it +isn't burned any. I meant to wet it, too," he gasped. "Is that tree +solid? I can't seem to see. All right, quick! I can't do it. Make a loop +and put it under his arms and let him down." + +There was not a minute to spare, and no time for explanations or +questions. Garry lowered the boy into the cut. + +"Now you'll have to let me down, I'm afraid," said Tom. "My hands are +funny and I can't--I can't go hand over hand." + +"That's easy," said Garry. + +But it was not so easy as it had been to lower the smaller boy. He had +to encircle the tree twice with the rope to guard against a too rapid +descent, and to smooth the precipice where the rope went over the edge +to keep it from cutting. When Tom had been lowered into the cut, Garry +himself went down hand over hand. + +It was cool down there, but they could hear the wild flames raging above +and many sparks descended and died on the already burned surface. The +air blew in a strong, refreshing draught through the deep gully, and the +three boys, hardly realizing their hair-breadth escape, seemed to be in +a different world, or rather, in the cellar of the world above, which +was being swept by that heartless roistering wind and fire. + + * * * * * + +Along through the cut they came, a dozen or more scarred and weary +scouts, their clothing in tatters, anxious and breathing heavily. They +had come by the long way around the edge of the woods and got into the +cut where the hill was low and the gully shallow. + +"Is anyone there?" a scout called, as they neared the point above which +Hero Cabin had stood. They knew well enough that no one could be left +alive above. + +"We're here," called Garry. + +"Hurt? Did you jump--both of you?" + +"Three, the kid and I and Tom Slade." + +"Tom Slade? How did _he_ get here?" + +"Came up through the woods and brought us a rope. _We're_ all right, but +he's played out. Got a stretcher?" + +"Sure." + +They came up, swinging their lanterns, to where Tom lay on the ground +with Garry's jacket folded under his head for a pillow, and they +listened soberly to Garry's simple tale of the strange, shrouded +apparition that had emerged from the flames with the precious life line +coiled about its neck. + +It was hard to believe, but there were the cold facts, and they could +only stand about, silent and aghast at what they heard. + +"We missed him," said one scout. + +"Is the camp saved?" asked Garry. + +"Mostly, but we had a stiff job." + +"Don't talk about _our_ job," said Doc Carson as he stooped, holding +the lantern before Tom's blackened face and taking his wrist to feel the +pulse. + +Again there was silence as they all stood about and the little +sandy-haired fellow with the cough crept close to the prostrate form and +gazed, fascinated, into that stolid, homely face. + +And still no one spoke. + +"It means the gold cross," someone whispered. + +"Do you think the gold cross is good enough?" Garry asked, quietly. + +"It's the best we have." + +Then Roy, who was among them, kneeled down and put his arm out toward +Tom. + +"Don't touch my hand," said Tom, faintly. "It isn't that I don't want to +shake hands with you," he added. "I wanted to do that when I met +you--before supper. Only my hands feel funny--tingly, kind of--and they +hurt. + +"Any of my own patrol here?" he asked after a moment. + +"Yes, Connie Bennett's here--and Will Bronson." + +"Then I'd rather have them carry the stretcher, and I'd like for you to +walk along by me--I got something to say to you." + +They did as he asked, the others following at a little distance, except +the little sandy-haired boy who persisted in running forward until Garry +called him back and kept his own deterring arm about the boy's shoulder. + +"I don't mind my own patrol hearing--or you. I don't care about the gold +cross. It's only what it means that counts--sort of. I let Garry save +your brother, Will, because I knew he needed to stay longer--I knew +about that kid not being strong--that's all. I can go through water as +easy as I can through fire--it's--it's easier--if it comes to that." + +"Don't try to talk, Tom," said Roy, brokenly. + +"But I wouldn't tell even you, Roy, because--because if he'd found it +out he wouldn't think it was fair--and he wouldn't have taken it. That's +the kind of a fellow he is, Roy." + +"Yes, I know what kind of a fellow he is," said Roy. + +"Anyway, it's no matter now. You see yourself Hero Cabin is burned down. +A fellow might--he might even lose the cross. It's the three weeks that +counted--see?" + +"Yes, I see," said Roy. + +"And tomorrow I want to go back with you fellows in the _Good +Turn_--and see Mr. Temple. I want to ask him if that kid can stay with +Jeb 'till Christmas. Then I'll come back up to camp. I've thought a lot +lately about our trip up in the _Good Turn_, Roy." + +"Yes--so have I, Tom. But don't talk now. Doc doesn't want you to." + +"We've got to find Harry Stanton," said Tom, after a few minutes. + +"Yes," said Roy. + +But whether they ever did find him and the singular adventures attending +their quest, are really part of another story. + +THE END + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Tom Slade at Temple Camp, by Percy K. 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