CHAPTER I

Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed

Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

TOM SLADE AT TEMPLE CAMP

By

PERCY K. FITZHUGH

Author of

THE TOM SLADE BOOKS

THE ROY BLAKELEY BOOKS

THE PEE-WEE HARRIS BOOKS

Published with the approval of

THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA

WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.

RACINE, WISCONSIN

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Copyright, MCMXVII

GROSSET & DUNLAP

Printed in the United States of America

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

I. ROY'S SACRIFICE 1

II. INDIAN SCOUT SIGN 10

III. PEE-WEE AND MARY TEMPLE 19

IV. TOM AND ROY 25

V. FIRST COUP OF THE MASCOT 32

VI. THE SHELTER 52

VII. THE "GOOD TURN" 70

VIII. BON VOYAGE! 79

IX. THE MYSTERY 94

X. PEE-WEE'S ADVENTURE 110

XI. TRACKS AND TRAILING 124

XII. THE LONG ARM OF THE SCOUT 136

XIII. TEMPLE CAMP 150

XIV. HERO CABIN 165

XV. COWARD 177

XVI. OSTRACIZED 188

XVII. THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN CROSS 197

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CHAPTER I

ROY'S SACRIFICE

"Rejected by a large majority--I mean, elected by a large majority."

Roy Blakeley gathered up the ballots in his two hands, dropped them into

the shoe box and pushed the box across the table to Mr. Ellsworth as if

the matter were finally settled.

"Honorable Roy Blakeley," he added, "didn't even carry his own patrol."

This humiliating confession, offered in Roy's gayest manner, was true.

The Silver Foxes had turned from their leader and, to a scout, voted for

Tom Slade. It was hinted that Roy himself was responsible for this, but

he was a good politician and would not talk. There was also a dark rumor

that a certain young lady was mixed up in the matter and it is a fact

that only the night before Roy and Mary Temple had been seen in earnest

converse on the wide veranda at Grantley Square by Pee-wee Harris, who

believed that a scout should be observant.

Be this as it may, Tom had carried his own patrol, the Elks,

unanimously, and the Silver Foxes had voted for him like instructed

delegates, while among the proud and dignified Ravens there had been but

one dissenting vote. Someone had cast this for Pee-wee Harris, the

Silver Fox mascot and the troop's chief exhibit. But, of course, it was

only a joke. The idea of Pee-wee going away as assistant camp manager

was preposterous. Why, you could hardly see him without a magnifying

glass.

"If this particular majority had been much larger," announced Roy, "it

wouldn't have been a majority at all; it would have been a unanimity."

"A una _what_?" someone asked.

"A unanimity--that's Latin for home run. Seems a pity that the only

thing that prevented a clean sweep was a little three-foot pocket

edition of a boy scout----"

At this moment, Pee-wee, by a miracle of dexterity, landed a ball of

twine plunk in the middle of Roy's face.

"Roy," laughed Mr. Ellsworth, "you're a good campaign manager."

"He's a boss," shouted Pee-wee, "that's what he is. A boss is a feller

that has people elected and then makes them do what he says."

"Well, you were glad enough to vote for him with the rest, weren't you?"

laughed the scoutmaster.

And Pee-wee had to confess that he was.

But there was no doubt that Roy had managed the whole thing, and if ever

political boss saw his fondest wishes realized Roy did now.

"I think," said Mr. Ellsworth, "that it is up to Tom to deliver his

speech of acceptance."

"Sure it is," said Westy Martin (Silver Fox). "We want to know his

policies. Is he going to favor the Elks or is he going to be neutral?"

"Is he for troop first or camp first?" asked Doc. Carson (Raven and

First-aid scout).

"Is Roy Blakeley going to come in for three or four helpings at mess

because he ran the campaign?" asked Connie Bennett, of the new Elks.

"Speech, speech!" called Eddie Ingram, of the Silver Foxes.

Tom looked uneasily at Mr. Ellsworth and on the scoutmaster's laughing

nod of encouragement arose.

He was not at his best in a thing of this kind; he had always envied Roy

his easy, bantering manner, but he was not the one to shirk a duty, so

he stood up.

He was about fifteen and of a heavy, ungraceful build. His hair was

thick and rather scraggly, his face was of the square type, and his

expression what people call stolid. He had freckles but not too many,

and his mouth was large and his lips tight-set. His face wore a

characteristic frown which was the last feeble trace of a lowering look

which had once disfigured it. Frowns are in the taboo list of the

scouts, but somehow this one wasn't half bad; there was a kind of rugged

strength in it. He wore khaki trousers and a brown flannel shirt which

was unbuttoned in front, exposing an expanse of very brown chest.

For Tom Slade's virtues you will have to plow through these pages if you

have not already met him, but for his faults, they were printed all over

him like cities on a map. He was stubborn, rather reticent, sometimes

unreasonable, and carried with him that air of stolid self-confidence

which is apt to be found in one who has surmounted obstacles and risen

in spite of handicaps. It was often said in the troop that one never

knew how to take Tom.

"I think Pee-wee is right," he said, "and I guess Roy managed this. I

could see he was doing some private wig-wag work, and I think you've all

been--what d'you call it--co-something or other----"

"Coerced!" suggested Pee-wee.

(Cries of "No, you're crazy!")

"But as long as I'm elected I'll take the job--and I'm very thankful. I

won't deny I wanted it. Roy won't get any favors." (Cheers) "If I have

any deciding to do I'll decide the way I think is right. That's all I've

got to say--oh, yes, there's one thing more--one thing I made up my mind

to in case I was lucky enough to get elected." (Cries of "Hear, hear!")

"I'm not going to go by the railroad. I got an idea, like, that it

doesn't took right for a scout to go to camp by train. So I'm going to

hike it up to the camp. I'm going to start early enough so I can do it.

When a scout steps off a train he looks like a summer boarder. I ask Roy

to go with me if he can start when I do. I don't want you fellows to

think I was expecting to be chosen. I didn't let myself think about it.

But sometimes you can't help thinking about a thing; and the other

night I said to myself that if anything should happen I should get

elected----"

(A voice, "You didn't do a thing but walk away with it, Tommy!")

(Cries of "Shut up till he gets through!")

"I wouldn't go to that camp in a train. I'm not going to set foot in it

till I'm qualified for a first-class scout, and I'm going to do the rest

of my stunts on the way. I want Roy to go with me if he can. I thank you

for electing me. I'll do my best in that job. If I knew how to say it,

I'd thank you better. I guess I'm kind of rattled."

The blunt little speech was very characteristic of Tom and it was

greeted with a storm of applause. He had a way of blurting out his plans

and ideas without giving any previous hint of them, but this was

something of a knockout blow.

"Oh, you hit it right!" shouted Pee-wee. "Gee, I do hate railroad

trains--railroad trains and homework."

"You don't mean you're going to hike it from here, Tom, do you?" asked

Mr. Ellsworth.

"I had an idea I might canoe up as far as Nyack," said Tom, "and then

follow the river up to Catskill Landing and hit in for Leeds--but, of

course," he added, "I didn't really expect to be elected."

"Oh, crinkums!" shouted Pee-wee. "I'll go with you!"

"Well," said Roy, when the laughter had subsided, "this is a new wrinkle

and it sounds rather risky for a half-baked Elk----" (Hisses from the

Elks) "So far as I'm concerned, I think a hike of a hundred miles or

so----"

"You're crazy!" interrupted Pee-wee. "You silver-plated Fox----"

"Is too much," concluded Roy. "In the first place, there would have to

be a whole lot of discomfort." (Hisses) "A fellow would be pretty sure

to get his feet wet." (Mr. Ellsworth restrained Pee-wee with

difficulty.) "He would have to sleep out of doors in the damp night

air----" (A voice, "Slap him on the wrist!") "And he would be likely to

get lost. Scouts, it's no fun to be lost in the woods----" (Cries of

"Yes, it is!") "We would be footsore and weary," continued Roy.

"You got that out of a book!" shouted Pee-wee. "_Footsore and

weary_--that's the way folks talk in books!"

"We might be caught in the rain," said Roy, soberly. "We might have to

pick our way along obscure trail or up steep mountains."

"You ought to go and take a ride in a merry-go-round," cried Pee-wee,

sarcastically.

"In short, it is fraught with peril," said Roy.

"You got _that_ out of a book, too," said Pee-wee, disgustedly,

"_fraught with peril_!"

"I think it is too much of an undertaking," said Roy, ignoring him. "We

can get round-trip tickets."

Pee-wee almost fell off his chair.

"But, of course," continued Roy, soberly, "a scout is not supposed to

think of himself--especially a Silver Fox. I am a Silver

Fox--sterling--warranted. A scout is a brother to every other scout. He

ought to be ready to make sacrifices." (Mr. Ellsworth began to chuckle.)

"He ought not to stand by and see a fellow scout in danger. He ought not

to stand and see a poor Elk go headlong----" (Hisses) "He ought to be

ready with a good turn regardless of his own comfort and safety." (Hoots

and laughter) "I am ready with a good turn. I am ready to sac----"

(Jeers) "I am ready to sac----" (Jeers) "I am----" (Cries of "Noble

lad!") "I am ready to sac----"

"Well, go ahead and _sac_, why don't you?" shouted Pee-wee in disgust.

"You're a hyp----"

"Hip--hooray!" concluded several scouts.

"You're a hyp--hyp--hypocrite!" Pee-wee managed to ejaculate amid the

tumult.

"I am ready to sac----"

"Oh, go on, sac and be done with it!"

"I am ready to sacrifice myself for Tom Slade," finished Roy,

magnanimously. "Tom," he added, extending his hand across the table with

a noble air of martyrdom, "Tom, I will go with you!"

The meeting broke up gaily, Mr. Ellsworth saying that he would certainly

communicate Roy's generous and self-sacrificing offer to National

Headquarters as a conspicuous instance of a memorable and epoch-making

good turn.

"He gets my goat!" said Pee-wee to the scoutmaster.

"I am very glad," said Mr. Ellsworth, soberly, "that our summer begins

with a good turn. The Silver Foxes should be proud of their unselfish

leader." Then he turned to Doc. Carson and winked the other eye.

He was a great jollier--Mr. Ellsworth.

Tom Slade at Temple Camp · 第 1 / 17 章