THE END OF THE MEETING
Oh, boy, some excitement! “Excuse me while I blush,” I said. For they
were all shouting and Pee-wee was on top of the table dancing and
yelling, “_Hurrah for the Solid Silver Foxes! Three cheers for the
Sterling Silver Foxes!_” Believe me, that kid is self-starting, but he
isn’t self stopping.
Then I told them that I had something more to say, and they shouted it
was their turn to do the saying, and believe me, they did—with
something left over. At last Mr. Ellsworth got us throttled down and he
told me to say what I had to say, because Mr. Bennett had a word or two
for us.
So I told them my idea that I’d had in my head all the time, and you
just wait and see how many adventures it led to. That’s one good thing
about good turns; they most always start something. Already Pee-wee was
started.
I told them I thought instead of keeping Tom Slade’s place open, kind of
in memory of him, it would be better to put Skinny McCord in that vacant
place and take him up to Temple Camp and help him to get well. Then I
told them how he read the Handbook, and how he was crazy about scouting,
only he was scared of the fellows because he was so poor. And then I
said that findings is keepings and that Skinny belonged to the Silver
Foxes, and they would make a present of him to the Elks on account of
Tom Slade. “Anyway,” I said, “when Tom gets back he’ll be old enough for
assistant scoutmaster, so it’s all right.”
Then Mr. Ellsworth said, “Very good,” and that Councilman Bennett had
something to say. This is what he said, because Mr. Ellsworth wrote it
out for me, and he remembered almost just how it was. Oh, but he’s one
fine man—Mr. Bennett—he’s on some kind of a board and he helped build
the hospital and he likes the scouts and he wishes he could shin up a
tree—he said so. So this is what he said.
“My young friends, I have listened with a good deal of something or
other (it’s too much bother to spell it out) to our young leader of the
Silver Foxes, and I must say that the Silver Foxes are solid fourteen
karat gold. I am a lawyer myself and I wish to express my professional
admiration of the way Leader Blakeley presented his case.”
“The pleasure is mine,” I said under my breath, because I just couldn’t
help it.
Then he said like this—he said, “If Skinny McCord wishes to cast his
lot with such boys as these, he shall not find the means lacking. I will
furnish his suit and such sundries as he needs. I agree with Leader
Blakeley that doctors are sometimes mistaken. Let us hope it may be the
case in this instance. The cruise to camp must be made; let nothing
interfere with that. If some of you boys wish to go into the city in the
morning you may have the pleasure of purchasing Skinny’s outfit. I would
suggest that the Silver Foxes do this in order that their gift may go
complete to their comrades of the Elks. I think I have your
scoutmaster’s permission to do this.”
“Sure you have!” Pee-wee shouted.
“We’ll go in on the 9 A. M. train,” Westy said.
“What time does the 9 A. M. train leave?” Pee-wee shouted. “Oh, but it’s
great!” He was half crazy.
“The nine o’clock train leave at 8.60,” I told him, “and you have to get
a transfer——”
“To what line?” he shouted.
“To the clothesline,” I said.
“You make me sick!” he yelled, “You haven’t got any
what-do-you-call-it—hero—something or other——”
“That talk will have to be strained through a sieve,” I said. “Don’t
mind him, Mr. Bennett, somebody’s been feeding him meat. He goes to the
movies too much. He’s known as the human megaphone. All step up and
listen to the Raving Raven rave—only a dime, ten cents, ladies and
gentlemen!”
Even Mr. Bennett had to laugh.
“Now all we’ve got to have is a girl,” Pee-wee shouted, “because we’ve
got a poor lad—I mean—you know what I mean—noble poverty and a boat
and heroes doing good turns——”
“And Ravens turning somersaults,” I said.
“And all that,” he kept up, “and Roy foiled his prosecuters—I mean
persecuters——”
“You mean executers,” Doc said.
“And all we need now is a heroine,” Pee-wee said, while he danced up and
down. “A poor girl—I mean a maiden—with gold hair—if we could only
rescue one—oh, wouldn’t it be great.”
“Even if her hair was only gold-filled it would be something,” Connie
Bennett said.
“You’re crazy!” Pee-wee shouted, “it shows none of you know anything
about stories.”
Oh, jiminy, I can’t tell all the stuff we shouted. You see, it was just
because we were feeling so good. And Mr. Ellsworth didn’t try to stop
us.
The next chapter is about two dollars. I don’t mean it’s worth that
much. I don’t know what I’ll name it yet.
Olive oil[1]—that’s the French way to say, “So long.” Anyway, it’s
something like that. I should worry.
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[1] _Au revoir_ is probably what he meant.