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THE BOY SCOUTS OF LENOX
Or
The Hike Over Big Bear Mountain
by
FRANK V. WEBSTER
Author of "Only a Farm Boy," "Ben Hardy's Flying
Machine," "The Boy from the Ranch," Etc.
Illustrated
[Illustration: THEY HOISTED HIM TO THE LIMB, WHERE HE CLUNG WATCHING
THE NEXT RESCUE. _Page 202._]
New York
Cupples & Leon Company
Publishers
* * * * *
BOOKS FOR BOYS
By FRANK V. WEBSTER
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
ONLY A FARM BOY
TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY
THE BOY FROM THE RANCH
THE YOUNG TREASURER HUNTER
BOB, THE CASTAWAY
THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS
THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES
THE TWO BOY GOLD MINERS
JACK, THE RUNAWAY
COMRADES OF THE SADDLE
THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL
THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS
BOB CHESTER'S GRIT
AIRSHIP ANDY
DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER
DICK, THE BANK BOY
BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE
THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS
HARRY WATSON'S HIGH SCHOOL DAYS
THE BOY SCOUTS OF LENOX
TOM TAYLOR AT WEST POINT
COWBOY DAVE
THE BOYS OF THE BATTLESHIP
JACK OF THE PONY EXPRESS
Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York
* * * * *
Copyright, 1915, by
Cupples & Leon Company
THE BOY SCOUTS OF LENOX
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. WHEN THE SEED TOOK ROOT 1
II. THE MAN WHO LOVED NATURE 10
III. A CLOUD OVER THE OSKAMP HOME 20
IV. THE DEFIANCE OF DOCK PHILLIPS 30
V. THE BLACK BEAR PATROL 41
VI. SETTING THE TRAP 48
VII. DOCK GOES FROM BAD TO WORSE 57
VIII. SIGNS OF TROUBLE AHEAD 66
IX. NO SURRENDER 76
X. READY FOR THE START 84
XI. ON THE WAY 91
XII. THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 98
XIII. THE LIFE THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN SAVED 106
XIV. AT THE FOOT OF BIG BEAR MOUNTAIN 114
XV. NOT GUILTY 122
XVI. WHAT TO DO IN A STORM 129
XVII. THE LANDSLIDE 137
XVIII. CAMPING ON THE LAKE SHORE 145
XIX. FRIENDS OF THE DEER 153
XX. FIRST AID TO THE INJURED 162
XXI. SCOUT GRIT 171
XXII. THE CABIN IN THE WOODS 180
XXIII. INTO THE GREAT BOG 189
XXIV. RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL 198
XXV. WHEN CARL CAME HOME--CONCLUSION 207
THE BOY SCOUTS OF LENOX
CHAPTER I
WHEN THE SEED TOOK ROOT
"I move we go into it, fellows!"
"It strikes me as a cracking good idea, all right, and I'm glad Tom
stirred us up after he came back from visiting his cousins over in
Freeport!"
"He says they've got a dandy troop, with three full patrols, over
there."
"No reason, Felix, why Lenox should be left out in the cold when it
comes to Boy Scout activities. Let's keep the ball rolling until it's
a sure thing."
"I say the same, Josh. Why, we can count about enough noses for a full
patrol right among ourselves. There's Tom Chesney to begin with; George
Cooper here, who ought to make a pretty fair scout even if he is always
finding fault; Carl Oskamp, also present, if we can only tear him away
from his hobby of raising homing pigeons long enough to study up what
scouts have to know; yourself, Josh Kingsley; and a fellow by the name
of Felix Robbins, which happens to be me."
"That's five to begin with; and I might mention Billy Button; yes, and
Walter Douglass, though I guess he'd take the premium for a tenderfoot,
because he knows next to nothing about outdoor life."
"But he's willing to learn, because he told me so, Josh; and that
counts a lot, you know. That makes seven doesn't it? Well, to complete
the roster of the patrol we might coax Horace Herkimer Crapsey to cast
in his lot with us!"
The boy named Josh laughed uproariously at the suggestion, and his
merriment was shared to some extent by the other two, Carl Oskamp
and George Cooper. Felix shook his head at them disapprovingly.
"Just go slow there, fellows," he told them. "Because Horace has always
been so afraid of his soft white hands that he wears gloves most of the
time isn't any reason why he shouldn't be made to see the error of his
ways."
"Oh! Felix means that if only we can coax Horace to join, we _might_
reform him!" exclaimed Josh, who was a thin and tall boy, with what
might be called a hatchet face, typically Yankee.
"By the same token," chuckled Felix in turn, "a few of us might drop
some of our bad habits if once we subscribed to the rules of the
scouts, because I've read the same in a newspaper. They rub it into
fellows who find fault with things instead of being cheerful."
"Oh! is that so, Felix?" burst out George Cooper, who took that thrust
to himself. "How about others who are lazy, and always wanting to put
things off to another day? Do those same rules say 'procrastination is
the thief of time?'"
"Well boys," remarked Carl Oskamp, pouring oil on the troubled water as
was his habit, "we've all got our faults, and it might be a good thing
if joining the scouts made us change our ways more or less. There comes
Tom, now, let's get him to tell us something more about the chance for
starting a troop in Lenox right away."
"He said he believed he knew a young man who might consent to act as
scout master," observed Felix. "It's Mr. Robert Witherspoon, the civil
engineer and surveyor."
"Why, yes, I believe he used to be a scout master in the town he came
from!" declared Carl. "I hope Tom is bringing us some good news right
now."
"If that look on his face counts for anything, he's going to give us a
chance to let out a few cheers," asserted Felix, as the fifth boy drew
near.
It was a Friday afternoon near the close of winter when this
conversation took place. School was over for the week, and as
there was an unmistakable feeling of coming spring in the air
the snow on the ground seemed to be in haste to melt and
disappear.
Every now and then one of the boys would be overcome by an irresistible
temptation to stoop, gather up enough of the soft clinging snow to make
a hard ball, which was thrown with more or less success at some tree or
other object.
The town of Lenox was just one of many in the eastern section of the
great United States, and boasted a few thousand inhabitants, some
industries, a high school, and various churches. In Lenox the boys
were no different from those to be found in every like community.
They had a baseball club that vied with rival schools in spirited
contests, a football organization, and in fact almost every element
that might be expected to thrive in the midst of a lively community.
There was, however, one thing in which the boys of Lenox seemed to have
been lacking, and this had been brought home to them when Tom Chesney
came back from his recent visit to Freeport, some twenty miles away.
Somehow the growing fever among boys to organize scout troops had not
broken out very early in Lenox; but if late in coming it bade fair to
make up for lost time by its fierce burning.
The boy who now joined the four whose chatter we have just recorded was
a healthy looking chap. There was something positive about Tom Chesney
that had always made him a leader with his comrades. At the same time
he was never known to assume any airs or to dictate; which was all the
more reason why his chums loved him.
"What luck, Tom?" demanded Josh, as soon as the newcomer joined the
others.
"It's all fixed," was the quick answer given by Tom, who evidently did
not believe in beating about the bush.
"Good for you!" cried Felix. "Then Mr. Witherspoon is willing to
organize the Lenox Troop of Boy Scouts, is he, Tom?"
"He said he would be glad to have a hand in it," replied the other,
"his only regret being that as he is often called out of town he might
not be able to give the matter all the attention he would like."
"That's great news anyhow, Tom!" declared Josh, beaming with
satisfaction. "We've just been figuring things out, and believe
we can find eight fellows who would be willing to make up the
first patrol."
"We would need that many for a starter," commented Tom; "because
according to the rules he tells me there must be at least one full
patrol before a troop can be started. And I'm glad you can figure on
enough. It's going to make it a success from the start."
"There's yourself to begin with," remarked Josh, counting with his
fingers; "Felix, Walter Douglass, George here, Billy Button, Horace
Crapsey, Carl and myself, making the eight we need for a patrol."
"I'm glad you're all anxious to join," said Tom, glancing from one
eager face to the other, as they walked slowly down the street in a
group.
"Why, so far as that goes, Tom," ventured Felix Robbins, "most of us
are counting the days before we can be wearing our khaki suits and
climbing up out of the tenderfoot bunch to that of second-class scout.
Only Carl here seems to be kind of holding back; though none of us can
see why he should want to go and leave his old chums in the lurch."
At that Tom gave Carl another look a little more searching than his
first. He was immediately struck by the fact that Carl did not seem as
happy as usual. He and Tom had been close chums for years. That fact
made Tom wonder why the other had not taken him into his confidence, if
there was anything wrong.
Carl must have known that the eyes of his chum were upon him for he
flushed, and then looked hastily up.
"Oh! it isn't that I wouldn't be mighty glad of the chance to go into
this thing with the rest of you," he hastened to say; "don't believe
that I'm getting tired of my old chums. It isn't that at all. But
something has happened to make me think I may be kept so busy that I'd
have no time to give to studying up scout laws and attending meetings."
"Oh! forget it all, Carl, and come in with us," urged Josh, laying a
hand affectionately on the other's shoulder. "If it's anything where we
can help, you know as well as you do your own name that there isn't a
fellow but would lay himself out to stand back of you. Isn't that so,
boys?"
Three other voices instantly joined in to declare that they would only
be glad of the opportunity to show Carl how much they appreciated him.
It always touches a boy to find out how much his chums think of him.
There was a suspicious moisture about Carl's eyes as he smiled and
nodded his head when replying.
"That's nice of you, fellows. But after all perhaps I may see my way
clear to joining the troop. I hope so, anyway, and I'll try my best
to make the riffle. Now Tom, tell us all Mr. Witherspoon said."
"Yes, we want to know what we'd have to do the first thing," added
Josh, who was about as quick to start things as Felix Robbins was
slow. "I sent off and got a scout manual. It came last night, and
I'm soaking up the contents at a great rate."
"That was why I saw a light over in your room late last night, was it?"
George Cooper demanded. "Burning the midnight oil. Must have been
interesting reading, seems to me, Josh."
"I could hardly tear myself away from the book," responded the other
boy. "After to-night I'll loan it to the rest of you, though I guess
Tom must have got one from Mr. Witherspoon, for I see something bulging
in his pocket."
Tom laughed at that.
"Josh," he said, "it's very plain to me that you will make a pretty
clever scout, because you've got the habit of observing things down to
a fine point. And if you've read as much as you say, of course you know
that one of the first things a tenderfoot has to do is to remember to
keep his eyes about him, and see things."
"Yes," added Josh, eagerly, "one test is for each boy to stand in front
of a store window for just two minutes, making a mental map of the
same, and then go off to jot down as many objects as he can remember
to have seen there."
"That's quite a stunt," remarked Felix thoughtfully; "and I reckon the
one who can figure out the biggest number of articles goes up head in
the class. I must remember and practice that game. It strikes me as
worth while."
"Listen to the row up there, will you?" burst out George Cooper just
then. "Why, that lot of boys seems to be having a snowball fight, don't
they? Hello! it isn't a battle after all, but they're pelting somebody
or other. See how the balls fly like a flock of pigeons from Carl's
coop!"
"It looks like a man they're bombarding!" ejaculated Felix.
"You're right about that, and an old man in the bargain," added Tom
as he quickened his steps involuntarily; "I can see that bully Tony
Pollock leading the lot; yes, and the other fellows must be his
cronies, Wedge McGuffey and Asa Green."
"See the poor old fellow try to dodge the balls!" exclaimed Josh.
"They're making them like ice too, and I wouldn't put it past that lot
to pack a stone in each snowball in the bargain. They'd be equal to
anything."
"Are we going to stand by and see that sport go on, boys?" asked Carl
as he shut his jaws tight together, and the light of indignation shone
in his eyes.
"We wouldn't be fit to wear the khaki of scouts if we did, fellows!"
cried Tom Chesney. "Come on, and let's give them a taste of their own
medicine," and with loud shouts the five comrades started to gather up
the snow as they chased pell-mell toward the scene of excitement.