THE PROMISE OF A SCOUT.
“Hello, Tom! Glad to have you drop around to see me!” was the friendly
and cheery salute of the scout master, as he nodded to the newcomer.
Boys do not usually wait on ceremony when visiting, so Tom, without
bothering to be asked to take a seat, dropped into an easy-chair.
Like most fellows of his age, Hugh had his room fitted up in as cozy a
fashion as suited his fancy. There were the customary college flags
decorating the walls, and some well-selected pictures that showed the
bent of Hugh’s mind toward art, a small matter, perhaps, in the opinion
of most people, but of moment with any one really desirous of knowing
the nature of the boy who lives and sleeps inside those walls.
One thing Hugh had noticed particularly. This was the exceeding great
care his guest took in making sure that he had properly closed the door
after him when entering the room. As a rule, Tom was inclined to be more
or less careless in this respect, being a breezy sort of a chap. Hugh
guessed that there might be a reason for this unusual caution, and it so
proved.
“Hugh, it’s getting worse all the time!” was the first remark the
newcomer made, and in a low voice, at that, as if he did not by any
chance want to be overheard by others in the adjoining room.
Hugh could easily guess what those depressing words meant. If he had
entertained any sort of doubt, the sigh that followed would have
dispelled them. Tom was in deeper trouble than ever, and that active
younger brother of his, Benjy, was undoubtedly the cause.
“What’s Benjy been doing now, Tom?” he asked, in as soothing a voice as
he could summon to his aid.
Tom scratched his head, as though a trifle puzzled to know just how to
begin.
“To tell you the truth, Hugh, I don’t know what he is after, but he’s
doing some mighty queer stunts. I never knew him to try to steal
before.”
“Oh, come, that’s a pretty hard word to use, Tom!” remonstrated the
scout master, trying to appear unbelieving, although he had felt a
little chill on hearing Tom say what he did.
Poor Tom shook his head as if very downcast.
“You don’t know how much it knocks me to even suspect such a thing,
Hugh,” he presently managed to say, and there was a plain tremor to his
voice, usually so robust and strong. “In spite of his headstrong ways,
Benjy has always been such a lovable fellow that—well, I’d go through
fire and water for him if I could do him any good.”
“I’m sure you would,” ventured Hugh, consolingly, as the other boy
stopped, to gulp several times, as though nearly choking with emotion.
“Ever since he started going with the set that trains with the newcomer
in Oakvale, Park Norris,” commenced Tom, “Benjy seems to have changed
ever so much, and all for the worse. It worries me heaps, and I don’t
know how I’m to get him back again. He seems to listen, with a curl to
his lip, whenever I speak about it, and I’m sure I try to act the big
brother to him, with my arm about his shoulders.”
“Tell me what’s happened since I saw you last, Tom,” urged the scout
master, desirous of getting at the “meat in the cocoanut” as quickly as
possible, for he had an hour or so to put in at studying, and, besides,
was pretty tired after a strenuous day.
“I will, Hugh. That was what brought me here to see you. When we talked
matters over before, you promised to help me.”
“I repeat that promise, Tom. As the temporary head of the troop, I could
do no less; and as your old chum I’d go far out of my way to give a
helping hand to Tom Sherwood.”
The other heaved a sigh, and his eyes glistened with a sudden moisture.
“Thank you, Hugh,” he managed to say, half steadily. “I knew I could
depend on you. I wanted to keep these things from our mother as long as
I could. She doesn’t suspect anything like the truth, for I heard her
say only the other day when Benjy had been rather irritable that she
feared he must be unwell, and perhaps she ought to have Doctor Kane drop
in to look him over.”
“There may be a little truth in that, Tom, don’t you know!” suggested
Hugh, but the other boy shook his head ominously in the negative.
“I’d like to believe it, Hugh,” he said. “It would be only a matter of a
dose of calomel or some other medicine that old Doc Kane likes to give,
and my brother would be himself again. But there’s something more than
that the matter. However, I said I’d start in and tell what happened,
and so here goes, Hugh.”
“Please get to the facts as soon as you can, Tom,” requested the other.
“It happened this very afternoon,” began Tom. “I came home, and started
up to my room to get something or other, when in the glass at the end of
the hall I happened to see something move through the open door. You
know, Hugh, I have a little room all my own at our house, and Benjy’s is
at the other end of the hall. When I saw that it was my brother in my
room I was surprised, for of late he hasn’t bothered dropping in to
visit with me like he used to be so fond of doing.
“Well, to make a long story short, Hugh, something tempted me to move
softly along the hall and look in past the partly open door. Hugh, would
you believe me, I was shocked to see Benjy, whom I once believed the
soul of honor, actually rummaging in my trunk.”
“Do you keep your trunk locked?” asked Hugh quickly.
“Not as a rule,” replied Tom, “unless I happen to have something in it I
don’t want a servant to see, or some Christmas presents I’ve hid away. I
guess it wasn’t locked to-day, in fact, I know it wasn’t.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” said the scout master, really relieved.
“Younger brothers often think they have a right to rummage when the
notion strikes them, I understand. Why should you think it so strange,
Tom?”
“Perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so badly about it some time ago,” admitted
Tom; “but so many suspicious things have happened, you see, to make me
think Benjy is going along the fast road. There was his taking that
money from his savings bank, and answering me so impudently when I asked
him what he was spending it for, instead of waiting till the Fourth of
July. Hugh, I keep my own savings bank lying in my trunk, along with a
lot of other stuff!”
“Do you think he meant to open that, and extract some of the contents?”
asked Hugh, feeling uncomfortably chilly at the thought.
“I’d hate to say what terrible thoughts chased through my brain when I
saw him turning things upside down as though he couldn’t find what he
was looking for,” the grieved Tom went on to remark.
“What did you do?” inquired Hugh.
“The first thing I thought of doing was to step right in and ask him
what he meant by getting in my trunk while I was away. But somehow,
Hugh, I just couldn’t bring myself to do that, so I slipped down to the
head of the stairs, and then started to whistle, and make a noise with
my feet, as if I might be coming up from the lower floor.”
“Yes,” said Hugh, greatly interested, as Tom paused to gulp again.
“When I stepped into my room, Benjy had managed to get the trunk closed,
for I had heard the lid bang down. He was going around looking up at the
walls in the most innocent way possible, and as soon as I came in he
asked me if I would mind lending him my old tennis racquet for a little
while.”
“Well, perhaps he wanted to have a game with some of the fellows over on
the courts,” explained Hugh. “I noticed that several sets were on this
afternoon for the first time this season. You were always a crackerjack
at tennis, Tom, and it may run in the blood with all the Sherwoods.”
“That’s just where the trouble comes in, Hugh. Benjy never cared a red
cent for playing, though I often wanted him to take a hand. No, I’m
afraid that was just a sudden idea that flashed into his head, so that I
wouldn’t think it strange that I should find him prowling in my room.
Besides, he was as red as a beet when he asked me that simple question,
and mother would never have thought he looked pale and sick if she had
only seen him _then_.”
“You didn’t say anything to him, of course, Tom?”
“If you mean accuse him in any way, Hugh, certainly not,” came the ready
answer. “To tell you the truth, my heart was just too full and too sore
to think of scolding, or anything like that. I stepped over to where my
old racquet stood behind the door, for I meant to have it restrung this
spring, as it was getting in poor shape at the close of last season; and
I handed it to Benjy, trying to look natural, too. I’m afraid, though,
he must have seen something queer in my face, for I noticed he gave me a
quick stare just as he took the racquet and hurried off, with muttered
thanks.”
Hugh pondered over the matter. He hardly knew what to say. It might be a
very innocent thing, on the part of Benjy. Again, there was a chance
that the worst Tom feared might be only too true.
Hugh did not like the new boy in town, Park Norris. He had too much
spending money for his own good, and it was said that his influence was
not of the best upon several fellows who seemed to be fascinated by his
manner and ways.
“I’ll tell you what, Tom,” the scout master presently remarked
seriously, “leave this matter with me, and I promise you I’ll take it up
very soon. I’ll try and learn how much Benjy is under the influence of
Park Norris, and then find out if I can’t win his confidence. I seem to
have a pretty good knack that way; at least, fellows tell me so, and I
glory in it, too.”
“Oh, I’m sure that if only you could get Benjy to promise to break off
with the set he’s been running with, Hugh, it would come out all right.
It’s the cigarette and card habit I’m most afraid of. He’s such a
lovable boy, you know, and I guess he is more easily led than I. So Park
Norris has managed to get a grip on him. I don’t know of a single fellow
who could win him back to his old way of living as well as you.”
“I give you my promise, Tom, remember, and I think I have the reputation
of always keeping my word. I’ll do everything I can to make Benjy see
that he’s on the wrong track. Will that satisfy you, old fellow?”
Tom suddenly clutched his friend’s hand and squeezed it convulsively.
“Oh, thank you, Hugh, thank you ever so much!” he went on to say, trying
to restrain his emotion. “I’ve got such confidence in your way of doing
things that somehow I seem to believe it’s just bound to come out all
right, now that you’re going to go up against the evil influence of that
Park Norris. Benjy will give in if he’s approached in the right spirit,
and nobody knows how better to do that than you.”
“Try and keep on feeling that way, Tom,” advised the other, as his
visitor picked up his hat preparatory to leaving. “Above all things
don’t let Benjy see that you suspect him. Be particularly kind to him.
Every time you do things for him it’s going to be a fresh stab at his
conscience, you know. In the end it’ll make my job the easier. That’s
all there is to do. Leave the rest to me, Tom.”
And the look of brimming gratitude which Tom Sherwood gave his chum
spoke more eloquently than any words he could have uttered would have
done. When he went forth again into the night air his brain was calmed
by the thought that Hugh had again promised to help him; and past
experiences and observation told Tom that the young scout master nearly
always did everything he attempted.
Hugh, on his part, had hard work keeping his mind on his studies the
rest of the evening.