IN THE WOODS
They shone, too, upon the scouts who tramped through the woods that
night. And the boys who had not compasses used the stars to guide them
in their bee-line course northward. Most of these traveling units
consisted of two scouts so that observation might be kept both to right
and left as they trotted northward. Some of the parties, however,
consisted of three, even four, scouts.
It was nice, skilfully geometric, how they made a sort of checker-board
of the woods and covered the whole area. For almost a mile, which was
the breadth of the wooded area, they moved in a score or more of
straight lines, pausing here and there for incidental investigation, but
for the most part keeping a straight course.
Neighboring units were always within call and the woods echoed with
cheery, hopeful voices. Now and again a sudden shout far to east or west
brought all searchers to a stop; there would be a moment of suspended
elation, then the parties would trot on again. Every hubble of the
ground, every object apparently foreign to the woods, every stump and
rock was noticed, and investigated. There was probably not a yard of
territory in those dark woods that was not seen that night by the prying
eyes of scouts. The object of their quest made the work serious, yet
there was much badinage back and forth between neighboring parties.
Roy and Connie, with their new recruit, Pee-wee, followed the woods path
and their progress was easy. Now and then, as they went along, they
could see a quick, brief light to east or west where other scouts were
verifying their direction with compass and flashlight.
Pee-wee used both compass and flashlight in spite of the path; he was
nothing if not thorough. The familiar path might change its mind and
alter its accustomed course; Pee-wee was for safety first. He jogged
along with his compass in one hand and Roy’s flashlight in the other,
eating an apple (gift from Connie) which he managed to hold also, and
talking volubly at the same time.
In addition, his frowning gaze penetrated the woods now to one side, now
to the other, and occasionally he confirmed the accuracy of his compass
by a searching look heavenward where one of his particular friends, the
Big Dipper, resided. So it may be said that every movable part of
Pee-wee was in action—particularly his jaws.
“Gee, I have to take the blame because he went back, that’s one sure
thing,” he said. “Gee whiz, I thought he’d follow me.”
“You should have known him better than that, kid,” laughed Connie. “Can
you picture him on a trip like this?”
“Don’t make me laugh,” said Roy.
“Now maybe he won’t join,” said Pee-wee. “I had him all worked up to the
point where he was going to join.”
“Don’t you believe it, kid,” laughed Connie again. “You stand a better
chance of being struck by lightning than getting that Mary into your
patrol. What do you want him for, anyway? They’d only guy the life out
of him up at camp.”
“You don’t know him like I do,” Pee-wee protested. “He’s a nice feller.
Gee whiz, I didn’t want to go with him but I promised to, so I did——”
“After half a dozen other fellows passed it up,” said Connie. “You were
a little brick, kid, to let him wish himself on you like that.”
“Some good turn,” panted Roy, as they jogged along.
“He treated me,” said Pee-wee; “he treated me to a lot of things.”
“Yop, I’ve seen that wallet,” laughed Connie. “He keeps calling cards in
it.”
“He keeps dollar bills in it,” said Pee-wee.
“You love him for his money,” said Roy.
“He loves him for his wheatcakes,” said Connie.
“You make me tired!” roared Pee-wee. “That shows how much you know about
propa——”
“Oh, he’s proper all right,” said Connie.
“I mean propaganda,” Pee-wee roared. “That shows how much you know about
being a propagandist and getting new fellers. Anyway, I like him and I
don’t care what you say. He treated me fine in the city, and he’s all
right.”
“For collecting lead pencils,” said Connie.
“I heard he does embroidery work,” said Roy.
“Is that any worse than birch-bark work?” Pee-wee thundered, not without
a real touch of his boasted logic. “What’s the difference between making
fancy things out of cloth or out of wood? Gee whiz! You make
napkin-rings, don’t you?”
“You love him for his riches, kid,” laughed Roy.
“You make me sick,” Pee-wee panted, as he buried his teeth in his apple.
“I’ll tell you how it is, kid,” said Connie more seriously. “It isn’t a
case of what _you_ want. You’re all right, kiddo, as far as that goes.
But he won’t join because it isn’t in him to join. If he joined, he’d
drop out.”
“Look at Tom Slade!” Pee-wee shouted, speaking while he held the apple
with his teeth in order to throw a light on his compass.
“Tom was a hoodlum if that’s what you mean,” said Roy. “He wasn’t a
sissy. You’ve got something to work on with a hoodlum. If Arabella wants
to hit the great outdoors, as he calls it, let him join the Camp-fire
Girls. Forget it, kid; it’s all right to be friends with him but for
goodness’ sake pike around and get somebody else to join your patrol.
You’ll never get Arabella, take that from me. He just wouldn’t fit in,
and he wouldn’t join anyway.”
“It isn’t so easy to get fellers,” said Pee-wee, reminiscent of his
dubious experience as a missionary. “Who could I get, tell me
that—you’re so smart.”
“What’s the matter with Toby Ralston?” Connie queried.
“There you are,” agreed Roy, “and you’d get two scouts in one. You’d get
Robin Hood, too.”
“Oh, boy! Some scout!” said Connie.