TO PASTURES NEW
One might suppose that such a boy as Danny would have at least the
quality of understanding himself; he was nonchalant and self-assured;
so easily the master of a situation. But strangely enough, now that
he had plenty of money and could go upon his way with comparative
safety, he felt neither safe nor comfortable. He had suffered no
scruples at masquerading at the expense of an unknown scout, but now
that the unused balance of this board money was handed him, he felt
like a thief. Such is the strange quality of money! There are those
who will accept favors of every sort, except money. As long as he
had been a guest (?) at camp he had not thought of himself as doing
anything dishonest. Risky no doubt, but not stealing. But now his
act was reduced to its common denominator. He held the money, not
simply what the money represented. And he felt exactly as if he had
stolen it. It needed only these crisp bills to remind him of the
outrageous fraud he had been perpetrating.--Money to return to
Florida.
This climax of affairs troubled him, for it showed him that he was
not so sure of himself. In a way, Temple Camp had found him out, or
at least revealed him to himself. He had avoided scouting so as to
keep under cover. Then he had deliberately sauntered to his own
destruction by accepting the dismissal which should have been Holman
Sharpe's. That is, he had done a good turn, which of course, is
scouting. In the course of this renunciation he had found himself in
possession of seventy dollars. And he could not keep it. He was
thoroughly annoyed with himself at this. He was found out--he had
found himself out. He had tracked himself and found himself. He
alone had done the whole business!
"They must think I'm joy riding in a baby carriage, needing money,"
he said to himself. He was not willing to put his act of returning
the money on the somewhat weak and "kiddish" grounds of honesty.
Such a resourceful, skillful boy as he, could travel without money.
And so forth and so on. Anyway, he sauntered with his finest
nonchalant air into Administration Shack, giving a little sneery look
at the stuffed birds and snake skins displayed there. He could
never, never go in for scouting. Oh no! He pulled out one of the
chairs around the big writing table, sat down, pulled a Temple Camp
envelope to him, put the money into it and addressed it, "To the
Managers of Temple Camp."
He scaled it over to the young clerk at the desk as he went out.
"Here's a love letter for Wainey and the bunch," he said. "Tell 'em
I didn't need it."
"Sorry you're going, Scout Bently," said the young scout clerk.
"That's all right, so long, old man."
"You'll find it pretty hot in Florida this time of year, won't you?"
"I'm not there yet."
"You going down on the bus?"
"No, I'm going to hike down and get the six thirty-two."
"Well, hope to see you again."
One thing he wanted to do and that was to find Skinny. Poor Skinny,
he would be relieved by the departure of this unconcerned young
masquerader. In that two weeks he had obeyed Danny's order and not
sought him out. He had smiled shyly on the two or three occasions
when they had passed each other by and once at night, when all the
scouts were at campfire, he had ventured down to the deserted Pioneer
Row to have just a few words with his dubious hero if Danny were
there. But he could not find him. "He's scared, because he thinks
maybe I look like him," Skinny said to himself. As if he, Skinny,
could look like that resourceful and daring adventurer! He had
thought much about Danny, and worried about him, in those two weeks.
Once he had seen a strange man coming along the path west of the
storehouse holding a boy by the collar and he had been seized with
panic fear that it was Danny in the clutch of the Blythedale
authorities, until he saw that it was just a visiting parent
indulging in pleasantries with his son.
But Skinny was not to be found on that afternoon of Danny's sudden
departure, and Danny took the trail around the lake without seeing
him. He went that way because he wished to avoid villages and the
open roads. The route was longer and much more difficult than that
via the highroad, but he could get to Catskill without passing
through Leeds. His intention was to hook a ride on a train to New
York and then, having no money, to use his wits. But, of course,
Danny never knew from one minute to another what he would do.
So Holman Sharpe was able to proceed uninterrupted with his strenuous
cramming in the interest of scouting. We should not be too severe
with Holman. Realizing what Danny was doing for his sake, he tried
to find him and insist that they tell Councilor Wainwright the truth.
But Danny had already gone. That was the great thing about Danny, he
was always as good as his word and acted promptly. Whether it was
hitting a boy in the eye or making a sacrifice, it was all the same.
He hated talk and posing.
Thus baffled in his effort to make amends, Holman contented himself
with the comfortable view that after all his "studies" were more
important than the unprofitable loitering of a boy like Danny.
Making good use of one's time was surely the paramount virtue,
greater than generosity and sacrifice. We shall meet Holman again
some day and it will be interesting to note how his studious
concentration worked out. He cared more for scouting than he did for
scouts.
Nor should we be too lenient with Danny. He had a kind of
sophisticated contempt for the prescribed routine of scouting and it
was not exactly in the spirit of self-sacrifice that he saved Holman
from summary dismissal. It amused him and annoyed him to see this
smug candidate for scout honors delving in books and planning to do
things which he, Danny, could do so easily. As long as Holman liked
that sort of baby play, Danny was quite ready to assure him his
continuance of it. But it was with a tolerant sneer that he did it.
And generous acts are not done with a sneer.
Moreover, Danny knew that in a couple of weeks the real Danville
Bently would arrive and a crisis occur. He had done his stunt of
masquerading, and had been able thus to lie low in the perilous days
following his escape from the reform school. He went away owing
Temple Camp (or the real Bently) the amount of two weeks board, but
he had balked at taking the cash that had been proffered him, and had
gone penniless.
It may be added that he succeeded in finding the trail through the
mountain pass across the lake, which Holman Sharpe had tried four
times to follow in doing test four for the first class scout badge.