THE TEST
The three scouts took their way along the road in silence. Pee-wee was
subdued and even Roy sobered. Warde alone seemed composed. Perhaps none
of them had realized until now how much they had grown to like young
Blythe. And this appalling revelation was the sequel, the end, of that
merry, novel camping adventure. They were not fired by the dramatic
character of their discovery; they were just cast down. _This_ was
what it had all come to....
Pee-wee was the first to regain some of his former spirit. "Just the
same, maybe that fellow's mother will get the letter," said he; "so
that's one good thing. And later we're going to Temple Camp, that's
another. And Warde is a first class scout, so gee whiz, we ought to be
all good and glad, that's sure." But for all that, Pee-wee did not seem
good and glad.
He tried again. "A fellow ought to be glad when he gets to be a first
class scout, that's one sure thing. Even if I were in the Silver Foxes
I'd be glad. And anyway it's good you had your fourteen mile hike to-day
because now you can let Mr. Ellsworth and the local council know and he
can go over the ground Sunday. That's the way he usually does. You can
write up your account to-morrow and the next day. Then you can try for
any merit badge you want. I bet you'll get a lot of them. I bet your
father will be glad when you tell him you're in the first class, hey?...
I bet Roy will be proud, too," he added.
Roy made no response, only walked along silently.
"There won't be any badge, Kid," said Warde kindly. "There isn't going
to be any account written of this. And Mr. Ellsworth isn't going to go
over the ground.... He isn't going to see that picture."
For a few moments none of them spoke. Several men raking hay in a nearby
field waved to them, as people do to scouts, and the three waved their
arms in answer, but there was not much enthusiasm in their act. The
birds chirped among the bordering trees. A nimble little chipmunk paused
upon a stone wall, looked at them pertly, and disappeared in a crevice
of rock. And so they walked on, no one speaking.
"What do you mean?" Roy asked after a pause.
"Just that," said Warde. "Mr. Ellsworth saw Blythe. He isn't going to
see that picture. I don't care anything about the badge. Let's not talk
about it. It's off."
"Do you mean that we should protect that--that fellow?" Roy asked.
"I mean that this isn't my test," said Warde. "I mean I'm not going to
claim the badge. No one can make me claim it if I don't want to."
"That means that you want us to keep still about Blythe," Roy said. "You
can't get around that. If you think I--if you think I care anything
about five thousand dollars you're--then you're mistaken. My father
wouldn't let me take any money I got that way.... But a scout is--he's
supposed to--"
"He's supposed to watch his step," said Warde.
"Sure he is, Roy," piped up Pee-wee. "Gee, you can't deny that, Roy."
"He's supposed to know where he's at when it comes to something
serious," said Warde. "He's supposed to look before he leaps--"
"You can't deny that, Roy," spoke the big heart of Pee-wee Harris. "He's
supposed to look before he leaps."
Roy smiled. "Well, what are we going to do?" he asked.
"Are you asking me?" Warde queried.
"Sure, I'm asking you. It's Blythe's picture, isn't it?"
"You're patrol leader and I'm a second class scout," said Warde. "What
do _you_ say to do?"
"What do you mean, a second class scout?" Roy demanded, his voice full
of feeling. "I don't want any better scouts in my patrol than you. I'm
asking you what we're going to do."
"All right, I'll tell you," Warde said. "We're going to keep still until
we're dead sure. We know what kind of a fellow Blythe is, and they
don't, I mean the sheriff and police and those people. We know he's a
good friend. Sometimes when you look at a picture it reminds you of
someone, and the next time you look at it, it doesn't--"
"That's right, Roy," Pee-wee urged with great vehemence, "because once I
thought a man looked like George Washington and afterwards I saw he
didn't. So you see."
"We're not going to tell about this to-morrow and maybe not the next
day," said Warde. "We're going to make _dead sure_. Then if we have
to, we'll have to, that's all. Blythe isn't going to run away and I
don't think they're likely to take that notice down for about
forty-eleven years. We don't want Mr. Ellsworth blowing into that post
office; not yet. I'm not worrying about my scout rank, that can wait
too. I'm thinking about what we've lost--maybe. I'm not thinking about
what I wanted to get. Everything--it looks like--everything is
changed--all the fun and--what do I care about the old badge?"
Thus spoke Warde Hollister, second class scout.