WITHIN REACH
"Maybe she'll get it, you can't tell," Pee-wee said as they took their
way back to camp, the big envelope stuck under his belt, like a death
warrant carried by some awful dignitary of old. "Anyway I'm glad we came
because it will make Warde a first class scout."
Pee-wee was strong for the scouts and the troop even though he looked
with a kind of lofty scorn on the Silver Foxes. That Warde should become
a first class scout was a matter of honest joy to him.
"It was a full seven miles all right," said Roy, referring to the
distance mentioned in the test, "so I guess you're as good as in the
first class. I'm good and tired, I know that. You gave them good
measure."
"I bet you're proud," said Pee-wee.
"I bet I am," Warde answered. "I feel like a real scout now. A fellow
isn't a real scout till he gets into the first class."
"Sprouts and scouts," said Roy.
"When you write up your account don't forget to put down about my
talking to that girl," said Pee-wee.
"Oh I'll put everything down, don't you worry," said Warde, clearly
elated at the thought that the coveted badge was as good as won. "Do you
think I'm going to have Mr. E. going over the ground and putting
anything over on me? Not so you'd notice it."
"I bet Blythe will be glad," said Roy.
"Oh boy! Won't he!" vociferated Pee-wee. "I can just see him smiling
when I tell him about it," said Warde.
"He knows a lot about scouting since he met me," Pee-wee informed them.
"Anyway, maybe we killed two birds with one stone, hey? Maybe that
fellow's mother will get the letter and we know Warde is a first class
scout."
"That shows what kind of a scout you are," said Roy; "throwing stones at
birds."
"You're crazy," Pee-wee said, "that's an adverb."
"You mean a proverb," said Roy. "A lot you know about grammar; you don't
know the difference between a proposition and an injunction. He thinks
Boys' Life is a musical instrument because it's the scouts' official
organ. You're lucky not to be wished onto the Ravens," he said to Warde.
"I'm a full scout, that's all I'm thinking of," Warde laughed.
"Well I'm an empty one," said Roy.
"Same here," Pee-wee shouted.
"I'm glad to see you agree about something," Warde laughed. He felt like
laughing. He seemed to walk on air. "I'm an empty one, too," he added.
"Let's hike back through Westwood and get something to eat there."
"Carried by an unanimous majority," said Roy.
It was just exactly like Warde Hollister to give himself up to frank
elation at this achievement of full scouthood. For so he regarded it. He
had been the only second class scout in the troop, and those words
_second class_ had not been pleasant to his ears. With him it was
all or nothing. His thoughts were fixed on high.
To the natural enthusiasm of the new scout was added his own natural
enthusiasm and fine, high spirit. He did not want to be a star scout; he
must be an eagle scout. He did not want the bronze cross or the silver
cross; he would win the gold cross. The tenderfoot and second class
ranks were not steps _in_ scouting, they were steps to scouting.
And until now he had thought of himself as an outsider. He was wrong in
this, of course, but that was Warde Hollister.
Since Warde was in the troop it was a kind of disgrace to the troop and
to his patrol that he should not be a first class scout. So he thought.
The tests in the handbook he had found not difficult to pass. In the
case of this final one it was just a question of appropriate
opportunity. Until this day he had scorned to lay down his work. For
that also was a test. You see that all the tests are not in the
handbook, and that is the trouble. Wherever a scout goes he bumps into
tests which the very wise men who made the handbook never dreamed of.
To pass a test is one thing. To _stand_ a test is something else.
Little Warde Hollister knew of the great test that awaited him.