THE NEW ARRIVAL
Perhaps poor little Skinny's big eyes stared a little more than usual
on his hearing of Danny's departure. But he did not fear for Danny.
He knew that Danny was equal to anything, that he led a charmed life.
He did not know why Danny had left (nobody seemed to know that) but
he was not greatly surprised. Back home, Danny had always been the
true free lance, coming and going at will. He had followed a circus
as far as Ohio and come safely home. To Skinny he was superhuman.
Down in that stout little heart, Danny, with all his dubious
qualities, was the real hero. He could do anything he wanted to do.
All that troubled Skinny was that he wanted to do such dreadful
things.
Early on the afternoon of August Second he trembled as a little group
of new arrivals came down the woods path from the road where the bus
had set them down. He stood, a poor, shabby little figure, on the
porch of Administration Shack watching those khaki clad boys with
suit-cases and duffel bags, as they were piloted into the office. He
was just the queer little mascot of camp, a law unto himself, and no
longer bothered because he did not wear the scout regalia. They took
him around with them, rowing and hiking, because of a superstition
that he brought good luck. Sometimes they took him out in the canoe
that he had won in an insane frenzy, and he was always shyly pleased
to go. Ask any scout in camp about that phenomenal exploit and he
would tell you that Skinny did it in a fit and could never do it
again. But he was always on hand on Administration porch to gaze at
new arrivals. He was the court fool, the camp pet, always in
evidence, staring in amazement at the great world.
Among these new arrivals on that day was a tall, merry faced boy,
whose natty scout suit set off his trim, slender form. He was
distinguishable from the others (a patrol and a two patrol troop) by
a spotless white scout scarf which, instead of being tied in a knot
was drawn through a wide silver ring. His belt was white, too, a
noticeable variation in the scout raiment. He climbed to the porch
rather hesitatingly behind the others, but he was not embarrassed at
the patrol of authority, for he gave Skinny a funny wink which
aroused the little fellow to eager laughter. When Skinny laughed the
skin of his thin face tightened about his mouth, giving the
appearance of an older person's smile, but his big eager eyes
redeemed this rather pitiful effect.
"What's the white scarf for?" he ventured to ask upon the strength of
that pleasant wink.
"Polar Bears of Florida," said the boy.
"They don't have polar bears in Florida," Skinny ventured.
"No, that's the funny part of it," the boy laughed.
Skinny did not realize till this boy had gone inside that he was the
real Danville Bently of Wave Crest City, Florida. He did not venture
into the office for there was a rug on the floor and somehow he was
always timid where there were rugs. But he stood at the window
looking in. He wondered if something involving himself would now
happen. His nerves were all on edge. There would be an explosion,
he thought. The tall boy stood aside waiting till the others were
enrolled. Skinny felt that this was for a purpose. The boy looked
very conspicuous in there with his white scarf and belt in striking
contrast to his khaki attire. Skinny now noticed that the hat he
held had a white cord on it also. He seemed to be waiting just from
politeness, but Skinny's little hands trembled in panic excitement.
The others emerged, singly and in groups, and now the tall boy was at
the counter. There was evidently some trouble and the clerk began
running through a card catalogue. Councilor Tenny was called and
together the three talked at the counter. Then Tom Slade, the young
camp assistant, appeared among them. Pretty soon he began laughing
and Skinny was relieved. The new boy laughed too. But Councilor
Tenny did not laugh. He shook his head as if puzzled. Then they got
a letter and read it. Pretty soon the new boy came out laughing.
"Well you don't have to worry," Tom called after him. "But it's
blamed funny we never got that letter."
"I know my name if I don't know anything else," laughed the boy. "I
wish I was as sure of my first class badges as I am of my--what d'you
call it--identity?"
"Beats me," said Tom, pausing on the steps. "All right, Bently,
don't worry; we like mysteries here."
"I'll write to my dad and he'll straighten it out," the boy said.
"This is a great place, Bent, we have dark and bloody mysteries,"
said Tom. "Long as you know who you are, you're all right. Get
busy--eats at six." That was just his off-hand, hearty way with new
arrivals.
So the worst was over and Skinny had not been torn to pieces or
struck dead. Temple Camp survived the dreadful fraud. Tom Slade had
even laughed; he loved so to have a joke on the office.
"Will you let me show you where you're going to go?" Skinny asked.
"Are you going to the dormitory? I'll show you. 'Cause my patrol
went on a hike, so I'll show you."
"I'm going to Tent Village, wherever that is?"
"I'll show you--it's dandy there. Is your name--what's your name?"
he asked, hurrying along by the new boy's side.
"Danville Bently."
"Have you got a patrol?"
"Sure, but I don't carry it around with me; I just came from Europe.
A chap was here for a couple of weeks and gave my name, that's what
all the fuss was about. Nobody seems to know anything about him."
"Will--they won't catch him, will they?"
"If he was slick enough to do that, I guess they won't if you're
asking me."
"He was smart, hey? Even if he wasn't maybe kind of a hero, he was
smart, hey?"
"There have been lots of worse ones; look at Robin Hood."
"Even he was bad, but he was a hero, hey?"
"I'd kind of like to know who he was. I hope I'll turn out to be as
smart as he is."
"You're not mad at him?" Skinny asked.
"I never get mad at anybody. My dad's the one that loses, and he'll
have a good laugh over it."
"Why do you wear white? It looks awful different?"
"Why do kids ask questions?"
"You're a second class scout?" Skinny asked, noticing the badge.
"I'll be a first class one in a few days or I'll kick myself. Have
you got seven miles around here that you're not using, so I can hike
it?"
"That's in test four," Skinny said. "Do you want me to go for a
witness?"
"Sure, you're always welcome."
"I know a good test four hike and I can always go, because mostly my
patrol are away doing all kinds of things. I can always go--if you
want me to. I won the Hiawatha canoe for swimming across the lake;
I'll show it to you, but most of the time it's out."
"Ever hear of Dutch Henny's Cave?"
"Sure I did. I bet you read about it in the Temple Camp booklet,
hey? It's just seven miles. I'll show you Spook Falls too, because
they make a noise like crying at night. That's a good test five hike
for second class, because it's just a mile; they go scout pace."
"How 'bout twelve on the first?"
"You mean getting a new scout? That's hard, because they're all
scouts up here. If you ask me things, I can tell you."
"Good."
"Now we're coming to Tent Village," said Skinny. "It's good it's all
full in Pioneer Dormitory, so they don't put you there. Can I be
special friends with you? Are you going to get prizes and awards?"
"Search _me_; I'm going to get a lot of fun," said Danville Bently.