SKINNY'S PROTÉGÉ
The next day a notice somewhat more lengthy and conspicuous than the
usual hastily written announcements appeared on the big bulletin
board at Administration Shack. It was typewritten and signed by the
two resident trustees. Skinny gazed at it, appalled.
The management of Temple Camp is mortified to make known that the
honorable uniform of scouting has been lately used to perpetrate a
gross and criminal fraud in this community. On July First a boy
representing himself to be a scout, enrolled and secured assignment
to quarters at this office. He registered the name of Danville
Bently of Florida, a scout who was expected at that time. This
unknown boy was lately dismissed from camp for sufficient reasons at
the end of two weeks enjoyment of the camp's hospitality. A letter,
deferring the arrival of the true Danville Bently, failed to be
received at this office and was probably intercepted.
The management of this camp has regretfully had occasion to warn its
guests against canvassers representing themselves to be connected
with the movement, but never heretofore against any one wrongfully
impersonating a scout.
Loyalty to this camp and jealousy for the honor of the scout uniform,
will prompt any one who has any knowledge or suspicions of the
whereabouts and identity of this miscreant, promptly to bring same to
the attention of the management.
This certainly set the matter forth in its true colors and Skinny was
aghast. What would they say if they knew that this "miscreant" was
also a fugitive from a reform school? But the affair was over and he
would not worry any more about it. The bulletin was just a random
shot in the dark and nothing happened. Danny was safe. No one knew
Danny as he did or they would not put out such notices.
He became devoted to Danville Bently. The only way that Skinny could
make friends with a boy was to catch him early, before he was drawn
into the activities of the camp life. Every newcomer had a rather
slow day or two before becoming acquainted, and this was particularly
so with boys who came without their troops. After a new boy became
involved in the camp life, he saw Skinny simply as the little mascot
and was content to "jolly" him as every one else did. He was not
likely to take this queer little fellow seriously and to make a pal
of him. Skinny knew this from bitter experience and he capitalized
his knowledge of camp and the neighboring countryside with every new
arrival. New boys were glad enough to hobnob with this eager little
guide while there was nothing else to do and had no scruples about
deserting him as soon as they were drawn into the camp life. Skinny
knew that he must strike while the iron was hot, as the saying is,
and he was always to be found, a gaunt little figure, waiting on
Administration steps when the bus came in. No boy could possibly
dislike Skinny. But on the other hand no boy could possibly make a
permanent comrade of him.
But Danville Bently did just that. The contrast between Skinny and
himself was ridiculous, but he seemed not to notice it. A boy who
deliberately chose Skinny's company was apt to get himself laughed
at. But no one dreamed of laughing. Perhaps no one dared to laugh
at this tall boy with the white scarf and belt who ambled about with
the cadaverous little gnome who took such conspicuous delight in his
company. Once again Skinny had done the unexpected and won a real
prize. Truly indeed he never did anything on a small scale.
At first the camp paid no attention while this shabby little janitor
showed the new tenant around the enchanted place. That was Skinny's
customary job. But when Howell Cross, of the First Vermont Eagles
(and an Eagle Scout) asked Danville to go on a point hike and he
pleasantly declined, the big heroes of Temple Camp began to sit up
and take notice.
"Sorry," said he, "but I'm going out on the lake with Alfred McCord.
Tell your patrol I appreciate their asking me." Howell and the
others who stood by were astonished not only because it was a
compliment to the new boy for the Eagle Patrol so to honor him, but
because none of them had ever before heard Skinny called by his real
name Alfred. They were to hear that name a good deal in the future.
"Can't you go out on the lake with him any day?" one of these scouts
asked.
"Sure, so why not to-day?" said Danville.
"It's up to you."
"How do you like it in Tent Village?"
"All right."
"If you don't like it with the singles you can be a season member of
my patrol," said Eagle Scout Cross. "I'm one short, he's away with
his folks. They let you do that up here, you know."
"Oh, he knows," laughed another scout. "I guess little sqeedunk told
him everything."
"He never told me he stole the white pennant," said Danville not
unpleasantly, but with just a touch of sharpness.
It was the first time these well known scouts of camp had come face
to face with the tall boy with the soft southern accent, and they
observed him closely. They were all scouts of achievement; the
Vermont Eagles were a crack patrol and Howell Cross, their leader,
was a hero with a following. There were, alas, drones at camp, but
this circle was finely representative of scouting. They saw nothing
about Bently to suggest the laggard or slacker, or mere "guest" at
camp. He had what even Howell Cross had not, and that was a certain
picturesqueness; but it was of a sort that revealed no crink or
cranny where boyish ridicule could penetrate. An odd hat, or even
too much attention to ostentatious details of scout attire (shades of
Pee-wee Harris) was pretty sure to arouse mirth and banter in this
big community. But the full white scarf with belt and hat cord to
match, worn by this tall, self-possessed boy, excited no humorous
comment. They asked him respectfully about it.
"Polar Bears," said he. "And I know there aren't any in Florida and
that's the funny part. I bet I've said that fifty times since I came
here."
"We can sure tell you a long way off," said Howell pleasantly. "Does
the silver ring mean anything?"
"It only means my sister gave it to me when I joined the scouts."
"Gee, it's nifty all right. It's not a patrol ring?"
"Yes it is, we all got them."
"You don't have to tie it in a knot, gee that's good."
Ordinarily the mention of a sister would have given Temple Camp just
the chance it loved. They would have used the sister to belittle
their victim. They would have said, "Oh joy, he's got a little
sister." But they just were not moved to do that. They looked at
his white scarf gathered into the shining silver ring, and at his
belt, and everything about him. They were interested, respectful.
And a trifle puzzled. That he should have an engagement with Skinny
McCord! And that he seemed to have every intention of keeping it,
just as if it were a real engagement.