THE NEW PROJECT
"Well, how does it strike you, Spike,---this idea of a summer
school?" inquired Cooper Fennimore the next morning as the Foxes
came back from their early dip in the lake.
"Um,---well," replied Spike slowly, rubbing his chin as he had seen
old men do when in deep thought, "how does it strike you?"
"Ex-actly right, now that I've thought it all over," responded
Cooper. "At first I was enthusiastic because the Lieutenant was
and because the rest took it up like wild-fire.
"Then, last night after the camp was quiet, I began to think it
looked like all work and no play; like a pretty strenuous vacation
after months of hard study, you know!" Cooper looked at spike and
gravely winked.
"Oh, yes, you old fraud!" jeered spike, poking his chum in the ribs.
"We all know that you are almost worn out with mental application!"
"But, finally," continued Cooper, doubling up slightly at the
friendly nudge but giving no further attention to the interruption,
"finally, I concluded that if my health could stand the strain, I
would like nothing better than this nice stiff little course in
ground work."
"'Ground work,' eh? Look here, Cooper, it is too early in the day
to attempt a pun."
"Pun? Not at all," Cooper retorted. "Don't you know my present
ambition? _To-day_---whatever my aspiration may be to-morrow---_to-day_
I mean to fit myself for architecture and landscape gardening.
And when in the misty future you see the name of Architect Cooper
Fennimore, Adviser in Extra-ordinary to the President-----"
Cooper darted into the Fox-Otter cabin as Spike dashed at him
again, and continued:
"------_then_ you will remember when you studied the ground work
of his profession with him!"
Their conversation was resumed a little later, when, rubbed down,
clothed, and neatly brushed, the two boys responded to the mess call.
"But say, Cooper," said Spike, "were you in earnest about liking
the summer school scheme and wanting to be a landscape artist?"
"I surely was, were, and am," replied Cooper, as the boys slipped
into their places. "I've been watching my uncle-in-law build
a house and lay out his grounds, and if I couldn't hit on a better
plan than his, I'd-----"
"Dig a hole, crawl in, and pull the hole after you?" prompted Spike
as Cooper paused for a comparison.
"Just about," agreed the other; and then both boys found their
nearest ambitions fully met by the camp cook's incomparable bacon
and eggs.
After breakfast the news was quickly circulated that no further plans
were to be divulged until afternoon and that the boys were free to
continue their baseball practice.
Soon by twos and three and fours, with balls, bats, and gloves, the
scouts drifted over to the diamond.
"I'm mighty glad that you are in for all this study course that's
coming, Ralph," said Torn Sherwood as they sauntered along.
"So am I," responded Ralph promptly. "It is more than kind of
Lieutenant Denmead to ask me to remain for it. I shan't feel so
green when I go to the School of Mines, you know, either, for this
Mr. Thayer is a graduate and I can learn a lot from him. Then it
means so much to be with you fellows! It has been a lonely place
on the farm sometimes!"
"I can believe that," agreed Arthur Cameron, who had joined the boys
and overheard their conversation. "Just the few days I was out
there showed me what it might be."
"Come on, fellows!" urged Dick Bellamy, swinging two bats in large
circles as though they were Indian clubs. "We're going to beat
our best records to-day, you know!"
All this interested Ralph Kenyon immensely and for a few weeks
his concern for his own personal affairs was merged with the pleasures
and the novelty of the life in camp. Often he wished that he
had more time to spend with these boys, who welcomed him to their
fellowship, although he was not even a tenderfoot, with hearty
good will and friendliness. Whatever Ralph did, work or play,
he did with all his heart. He entered into the games and recreations
"for all he was worth," and won the regard of his companions.
His ability as a ballplayer was no less of a surprise to them than it
was to himself, for he had not played ball since his junior year in
high school. His pitching proved to be clever and varied, his delivery
of the horsehide sphere being as good as Tom Sherwood's---which is no
faint praise.
Early that same afternoon the boys learned that the schedule promised
by the Scout Master was posted on the wall of his cabin, and that
Assistant Rawson had been dispatched to Oakvale for the supplies
listed in Ransom Thayer's outline for study and practice.
"The notice says that Mr. Thayer will begin work, with us at nine
o'clock sharp next Monday morning," announced Don Miller of the Foxes.
He had already seen the bulletin and made some inquiries of Lieutenant
Denmead, in order to coach his patrol more intelligently.
"Are there any 'points' for knowledge of trees and plants?" asked
Shorty McNeil.
"I didn't read everything carefully, Shorty," replied Don, "but I do
remember the word 'vegetation.' Maybe that will cover your specialty."
"I hope so," was the earnest rejoinder. "I can't do anything with
the mathematical end of this stunt, I tell you right now. But
leaves, and flowers, and different kinds of bark!---they are as
easy to read as print! And I would like to bring in a point or
two for our patrol."
At this moment Walter Osborne approached, walking rapidly from the
direction of headquarters.
"Hullo, Don," he called. "Have you seen the schedule? Great, isn't
it? Brings in about all our scoutcraft up to date!"
Walter hurried on, scarcely waiting to hear Don's reply in his
eagerness to overtake Blake Merton.
"I say, Blake," he began enthusiastically on reaching the fellow-hawk,
"do you know that this geological survey is going to give us fine
training in signaling? I hadn't realized it before, but maybe you
have, because of your experience over at Ralph's."
"Yes, I was interested in the simple system the railroad men used,"
Blake responded. "It is an eye and hand language worth learning."
"Well, I confess that I know nothing about it. And I didn't pick
up much from the work we had here while you were away. With all
credit to the Lieutenant, he does not know the practical side of
geological surveying, and while he interested us all, he did not
give us the real stuff that we shall get with Mr. Thayer."
"True for you," responded Blake. "All the fellows felt that way
after the tests last night, I guess. Those questions showed them
how few facts they had really learned. It was not hard for Bud and
me, because we have both had experience before now."
Meanwhile Bud Morgan himself was in the midst of a group of eager
Wolves.
"You must coach us, Bud," Arthur Cameron said. "We shall miss Hugh
and Billy in this, but you must see that they hear a good report of
us when it is over."
"That's right," agreed the other boys.
"Let's make Bud Morgan our patrol leader until Hugh comes back," cried
little Jack Durham, the recruit of last season.
"All in favor?" yelled Arthur. "Hands up!"
Hands and voices rose together and a united "_How-ooo-ooo_!"
rent the air.
"All right, fellows, I'll do my best," said Bud Morgan as the noise
stopped. "I'll try to act in Hugh's place, just as Tom Sherwood
is doing for Alec, if you will all stand by!"
"We will," promised the boys.
"Then listen! Mr. Thayer is going to put us through a big course
in a little time. We shan't like all the work, perhaps, but we
shall each like something,---for it touches so many things. There
are the long tramps in the fresh air, the measuring of distances,
the analyzing of the soil, the naming of the trees and plants,
the locating of mineral deposits, and the working out of problems."
Bud paused for breath, holding one hand poised with fingers outspread,
just as he had been counting them off as so many points to note.
"Now, then," he continued, "it's up to us to listen and learn,---and
to beat the other fellows to it!"
"_How-ooo-ooo_!" came an approving chorus.
At that moment a distant squealing told that the Otters were waxing
enthusiastic, also. Down by the pier at the lakeside, Tom Sherwood
had gathered his patrol,---to which Ralph Kenyon had been added for
the period of his visit.
Tom had just been explaining some facts that he had learned while
with the surveyors on Ralph's farm, and even Buck Winter had shown
a responsive interest.
Dick Bellamy, as usual, was keenly alive to the prospects in store,
foreseeing plenty of fun as well as work.
"I'll tell you one thing, fellows," he began.
"And that's not two," interrupted Sam Winter impudently.
"Somebody, please put the lid on that youngster a minute," continued
Dick, looking at Sam in well-assumed indignation. "As I was saying,---or
about to say,---I have often wished that I knew more about the
queer formations along the banks of rivers where I have gone on
fishing trips. My father has always had a good deal to say about
'erosion,' and 'glacial periods' and 'stratification' and 'natural
boundaries,' and I shall feel mighty proud to go back home knowing
a few of 'them things,' as Injun Joe would say."
This was an unusually serious speech from the imaginative and
sometimes irrepressible Dick, and the boys were correspondingly
moved by it.
"Oh, if it is like _that_," acknowledged Sam Winter, in a different
tone of voice than he had previously used, "we-----"
"We will all want to do our best," finished his brother. "I have
often wondered about the same things on my tramps after photographs
of animals. I've come across lots of queer formations and odd rocks
and natural caves and things."
As Buck ended his remarks a little lamely, Bud Morgan hastened to say,
"You fellows have the idea now,---and mark my word: the Otters are
going to win out!"