THE MEETING IN THE OLD WAGON SHOP.
"ABOUT time to begin business, don't you think, Mark?" asked Elmer
Chenowith.
"Just about on the minute; and I've been counting noses, Mr.
Scout-master; there are eighteen fellows present--not a single gap in
the line," answered his chum.
"That's fine. We'll get our four new members through to-night, and have
two complete patrols, with a third well started. Suppose you sound the
assembly, Mark, and we'll close the doors. While the Hickory Ridge Troop
of Boy Scouts doesn't pretend to be a secret society, there's no reason
why we should have every Tom, Dick, and Harry gaping in at us, and
listening to all we say."
Elmer and his closest chum, Mark Cummings, were standing inside the old
abandoned wagon-maker's shop that for long years had been a landmark at
the crossroads just outside the town of Hickory Ridge.
Half a dozen and more lighted lanterns hanging from beams or the low
rafters dissipated the darkness of the cobwebby interior; for the once
busy shop had been deserted some years now.
A bustling, laughing, chattering crowd of half-grown boys occupied the
place; and all but four of them were clad in the customary olive drab
khaki uniform of the scouts, met with in every part of this wide
country, between the Pacific and the Atlantic, and from the Great Lakes
of the north to the Mexican Gulf on the south.
Mark carried a bugle at his side, and was quite a genius as a musician.
Indeed, there were few musical instruments he could not play; and when
in camp the boys looked to him to enliven the evenings around their fire
with bugle, banjo, or mandolin.
Another member of the troop was the official drummer; but as yet he had
not secured an instrument on which to sound the long roll. But they
lived in hopes of soon supplying this need, as there was good money in
the treasury.
When the sweet, clear notes of the bugle sounded the assembly call, the
chattering ceased. Obedience is one of the first principles inculcated
in the breast of a scout; and Elmer, as the president of the
association, had always insisted upon the meeting being conducted with a
fair amount of decorum.
First came the roll call, when it was found that every member was
present, showing that the meeting was deemed an especially important
one.
True, several of the boys looked a bit tired, notably Jasper, who had
hardly been able to get out of his chair after supper, and was obliged
to exert more than the ordinary amount of will power before he could
reach the place of meeting.
A little routine program was first of all gone through with, such as
marked each meeting of the troop--a song that was patriotic in its
character sung, with considerable vim, for there were some really good
voices present; after which the commendable trait of patriotism was
further carried along by a salute to the flag which stood at one end of
the dingy old wheelwright's shop, where all eyes could fall upon its
starry blue field and warm red stripes.
"I'm sorry to state," said Elmer, in opening the meeting, "that our
capable scout-master was unable to be with us to-night, as a sudden
business call took him to New York last night. So we'll have to conduct
the exercises without him. And as the most important part of our meeting
is the initiation of four new members who have lately expressed a desire
to unite with the Hickory Ridge Troop of Boy Scouts, it would be in
order for a motion that we proceed immediately to complete that
function."
"I move, Mr. President, we go about that business," suggested "Lil
Artha" Stansbury, who had curled his long legs under him, and managed to
sit down on a low stool he had found somewhere; the balance of the boys
being disposed of in all sorts of ways, some on worn wooden "horses,"
others on blocks of wood, makeshift benches, and even on the bare
ground.
"Thecond the motion!" cried Ted Burgoyne, who often lisped, though he
could never be convinced of the fact, and would everlastingly and
vehemently deny it when accused.
Of course it was quickly carried; and the usual ceremonies having been
gone through with, the four applicants were declared fairly elected
members of the organization. Phil Dale became Number Five and George
Robbins Number Six of the Wolf Patrol; while Henry Condit and "Landy"
Smith filled the vacant numbers of the Beaver Patrol.
"This makes our two patrols complete," remarked Elmer. "It also
increases our membership to eighteen. We need several more fellows of
the right sort, and if any of you happen to know of any candidates,
bring their names before the committee between now and the next regular
meeting. But they must be boys of good moral character, who promise to
make scouts worthy of the name."
"Hear! hear!" called out "Red" Huggins, grinning, as though he took this
as a personal compliment.
"We can now proceed with the regular business before us. The new
members will consult with Comrade Merriweather about their suits. But of
course they understand that every cent must have been earned before they
can wear the new clothes. That is one of the things we stand for--a
scout must be independent, and able to do things for himself. It tends
to make him manly and reliant."
"Mr. President," said the secretary, who was no other than the tall "Lil
Artha," "I would like to inform the members of Hickory Ridge Troop that
I have with me a collection of finished pictures, taken on our recent
camping trip at Lake Solitude. Some of them are rather interesting, and
will serve to revive pleasant, or unpleasant, memories. They can be seen
after the meeting closes. Please excuse me for not rising, Mr.
President. Fact is, I don't believe I could without help, for it seems
as if my lower extremities had become locked."
There were numerous snickers at this, for it was a failing of the
good-natured "Lil Artha" to get his long legs twisted in a knot; though,
when he once started running, he could cover the ground at an amazing
pace.
"I understand," remarked Matty Eggleston, the leader of the Beaver
Patrol, getting up so suddenly from the swaying bench upon which he had
been seated that it tilted the remaining three scouts backward, and
deposited them on the ground, to the amusement of the assemblage--"I
understand," he went on, not disturbed by the tragic occurrence, as the
boys scrambled up, and began to brush themselves off, "that several of
our number met with an interesting experience to-day while off on a
hike. The rest of us would like very much to hear an account of what
happened."
"Yes! yes! tell us the story, Mr. President! We all want to know!" came
from a dozen of the lads, in one breath.
Elmer smiled encouragingly.
"If some one puts that in the form of a motion, and it is carried,
perhaps between Comrades Larry, Jasper, and myself we might be able to
spin the little yarn," he remarked.
Needless to say the motion was carried unanimously.
"Mr. President," said Larry, who was Number Six of the Beavers, "I
suggest that you give your version of the little adventure. If
necessary, Jasper and myself can dip in, and add some touches to it from
time to time."
Nothing loath, for he had an object in letting the new recruits see what
splendid chances there were for _doing things_ in the scout
organization, both for themselves and others, the acting scout-master
started to tell how Larry and Jasper had conceived a laudable ambition
to test their knowledge of woodcraft, and started out with the idea of
putting it to the trial.
He pointed out their mistakes, and showed where they could have avoided
them. He commended their pluck, and as he described the storm in the big
timber more than a few of the listening boys fairly quivered with
excitement. In imagination they could almost hear the terrific thunder,
and see the giant trees swaying in the howling wind.
After Elmer had brought out a number of points that would serve as a
valuable lesson to the tenderfoot scouts, and which he wanted to sink
into their minds, he presently carried the story to the final stage by
telling about their arrival at the farmhouse, where they found the
family in great distress, and in need of help.
He made a particular point of telling how helpless Matt Tubbs had
seemed, simply because he had never been instructed in the principles of
"first aid to the injured"; and went on to show how very important it
was for every true scout to know what to do in an emergency where human
life was in peril.
When, finally, Elmer finished, there was a hearty cheer from the
assembled lads. A number of questions were asked, which either the
acting scout-master or one of his mates answered.
"But perhaps another time, comrades, Matt Tubbs may not feel so helpless
as he did to-day," Elmer went on to say. "The fever has reached
Fairfield, and we hear they are trying to organize a troop of scouts
there, with Matt at the head. Let us hope, fellows, that when the
Fairfield Troop becomes a fact, there may be a chance for the Hickory
Ridge boys to renew their old-time rivalry with the neighboring town.
For the rowdy spirit will have to give way to order and decency before
Matt Tubbs and his cronies ever find themselves accepted as Boy Scouts."
"They never will do it!" cried Ty Collins, who had been the chief cook
of the troop while in camp, and was known as one of the best athletes in
Hickory Ridge.
"That's what I was saying to Elmer," echoed Larry Billings.
"Oh! well, you never can tell," laughed the leader. "I sometimes think
none of us know just what Matt Tubbs might do, if once he took a notion
to turn over a new leaf."
"Oh! he's just a regular bully, and that's all there is about it!" cried
Nat Scott.
"I hope you won't say that again, Nat," remarked Elmer. "I know on the
face of things people around Hickory Ridge think that, because Matt
always started trouble when the two towns used to be rivals on the
gridiron and the diamond. But over in Fairfield, fellows, they're not
quite so sure about it. Perhaps all of you don't know that when a house
burned down, and the firemen were afraid to rush in to save an old and
infirm woman who was known to be inside, Matt Tubbs took his life in
his hands _and got her out_! It was his own grandmother, but that makes
no difference. I say that the fellow who would do that can't be all
wrong; that he must have a spark, and a pretty big one, too, of decency
in his make-up. Those are just the kind of fellows this scout movement
can help. And I believe that if once they _change about and face the
other way_, they're bound to make the best of scouts. Let's give Matt
Tubbs a fair and square chance to make good!"
Considerable talk followed. Some of the boys were farsighted enough to
grasp what Elmer believed so firmly. Others shook their heads in doubt.
They fancied they knew Matt Tubbs like a book. He was no coward, they
admitted such a fact, but as for him ever being able to subscribe to the
twelve cardinal principles of a scout, why it was absurd; impossible!
"Water will run up-hill before that miracle ever happens!" declared Toby
Jones, the boy who was forever dreaming about doing wonderful stunts
with a flying machine which he expected some day to invent.
"I have no particular use foh the gentleman, suh!" remarked Chatz
Maxfield, whose manners and ways of expressing himself easily betrayed
his Southern birth.
So the meeting progressed, and was finally brought to a conclusion. Then
there was considerable merriment as the scouts clustered about "Lil
Artha," the official photographer, as he passed around some scores of
splendidly executed prints. Quite a number of these were gems of art,
and represented natural scenery around the mountain lake where the camp
had been located. Others elicited roars of laughter, for Arthur had
snapped off some pictures that perpetuated scenes of a comical nature.
The boys were enjoying the treat heartily, laughing, bandying remarks,
poking fun at the victims who were now held up to public view, and
mingling with perfect freedom, as the meeting had been adjourned, when
something certainly not down on the bills came to pass.
It was as unexpected as a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. The
photographer of the troop was gathering his pictures together, and those
members who had kindly furnished the lanterns so that their temporary
meeting-place might be illuminated in a seemly manner, were starting to
secure their property, when, without any warning, there sounded a
tremendous crash.
"What's that?" cried half a dozen of the scouts, as they looked at one
another in dismay.
"I know!" shouted Jack Armitage, whose father owned the old smithy;
"we've been spied on by some sneak; and he fell down off that rotten
loft yonder. There he goes, fellows! After the spy!"