TELLS ABOUT THE SCOUT PACE
We had it fixed that as soon as I got a letter I would start right down
to Camp McCord with it. And, oh, boy, didn't I hang around
Administration Shack, where the camp mail was sorted. I guess my patrol
thought I was crazy and I bet that robin in the maple tree wondered
what had become of me. Gee, you can say I was a Calamity Jane if you
want to, but honest, I had Lieutenant Donnelle sent all over the world.
One minute I was saying he was dead, and the next minute I was saying
he had gone to Russia, and the next minute I was saying the money
wasn't his at all. Then I was saying that he'd be mad, because I told
Bert about him and wouldn't send any answer at all. Then I'd get to
thinking about Bert and that would kind of cheer me up; because he was
so sure.
Three days went by and no letter came. Every time they handed me a
letter I'd be shaky all over till I saw who it was from, and then I'd
just be all down and out when I'd see it was from my mother or my
father. Even the letters with my allowance in didn't make me feel good,
so you can see from that how anxious I was.
All the fellows around camp didn't say much about Skinny. They thought
he was just a little thief, but anyway, they weren't the kind of
fellows to be always talking about it. They had something else to do.
They talked a lot about Bert though, and said he was a kind of a crank
about Skinny. But anyway, they admitted that he was a hero. Gee, they
_had_ to do that.
All the while I didn't go down to see Bert, and he didn't come up to
camp. I just didn't want to go unless I had the letter. Reggie hiked up
one day and wanted to know if he could borrow a pair of smoked glasses.
"The fellows here don't smoke," Doc Carson told him. It was a shame to
guy him, he was such a nice fellow, but oh, boy, I had to laugh to see
him start back with that pair of big auto goggles on. But anyhow, all
the fellows admitted that the Gold Dust Twins were all right. They were
terrible bunglers when it came to scouting, and they even laughed at
themselves; that was the best part of it. But you know what a tin horn
sport is. Well, they weren't that, anyway. They had one of those long
fancy brass things with a wax taper to light their camp-fire with;
honest, it was a scream. I guess it was used in the parlor at home, to
reach the chandelier with.
Well, it got to be Tuesday and no letter came. Oh, wasn't I
discouraged. I just started out through the woods, because I didn't
want to see anybody. All of a sudden, who should I meet but Pee-wee. He
motioned to me to keep still, because he was stalking a hop-toad. Even
though I didn't feel much like laughing, I had to laugh.
"Why don't you track an angleworm some day?" I said.
He said, "What's the matter with you lately?"
"Nothing much," I told him.
"You don't hang out with the fellows at all," he said; "we're having a
lot of thrilling adventures."
"Thrilling, hey?" I said; and I just had to laugh, because it was the
same old Pee-wee with his hair's-breadth escapes and thrilling
adventures, and all that stuff.
"Well," I said, "you want to be careful; it's pretty dangerous business
stalking hop-toads."
"I came all the way from Catskill scout pace," he said.
I said, "Bully for you."
"I did it in fifty-two minutes," he said; "scout pace is my middle
name. Are you worrying about anything?"
"I'm worrying because I don't get a letter, kid," I said; "if it
doesn't come to-morrow--"
"Don't you worry," he said; "it'll come to-morrow. I'll fix it for
you."
"You're one bully little fixer," I said (because he was always talking
about fixing things), "but if Uncle Sam doesn't bring it, _you_ can't.
But, anyway, you and I are going to have a good hike, you little raving
Raven," I said; "just as soon as we can. I know I haven't seen much of
you, Pee-wee, but it isn't because I don't like you."
He just said, "_Hsh_" and went off on tiptoe through the woods,
stalking his hop-toad. He's a mighty nice little fellow, Pee-wee is.
And he's a bully little scout. Scout pace and good turns, those are his
specialties. He just stalks hop-toads on the side.
* * * * *
Late that night Mr. Ellsworth came back. The bus brought him up from
Catskill. I didn't see him, but early in the morning on my way over to
wait for the mail, I met Vic Norris and Hunt Ward of the Elks.
Vic Norris said, "This'll be the end of Camp McCord. Mr. E. is going to
take Skinny to Bridgeboro this morning."
"Oh, is that so?" I said; "Skinny is with the Gold Dust Twins, and they
have nothing to do with Temple Camp."
"Skinny is in Mr. Ellsworth's care," Hunt Ward said.
"Pretty soon he'll be in the Reformatory's care," Vic blurted out.
"Yes," I said, "and all because you had his head all turned with
swimming, before he's even passed his second class tests. You were glad
enough to use him. You were glad enough to see his poor little skinny
legs kicking in the water, just so as you could get something out of
it. Now you throw him down. Those Gold Dust Twins are better scouts
than you are--they are. You're not fit to stay in the same camp with
Bert Winton; you're in my own troop, but I tell you that. You leave Mr.
Ellsworth out of it."
"Who says so?" Vic shouted.
"I say so," I told him. "You don't hear Mr. Ellsworth around saying
mean things about Skinny, do you? You leave Mr. Ellsworth out of it
It's none of your business what he does. Even if Skinny does go back,
the least you can do is keep still about it. You don't hear those
tigers around talking, do you? I guess not. Or my patrol either. You
keep your mouths shut about Skinny!"
Then I went over to Administration Shack to wait for the mail to be
sorted. The reason I didn't say more to Vic and Hunt was just because I
was getting discouraged, and in my heart I thought maybe Skinny would
have to go. I knew that Camp McCord was no use if Mr. Ellsworth said he
must go back.
I was glad I didn't say any more, because anyway, there was no letter
there.