Don Strong, Patrol Leader Part 31

"He says Ritter blamed him for the three mistakes."

"Good night!" Andy breathed.

Alex walked over and stared at the score-board. The Foxes had a scout absent and had been penalized two points. As a result, the Wolves had recovered the ground they had lost at Lonesome Woods. The new score read:

PATROL POINTS

Eagle 138-1/2 Fox 146 Wolf 143-1/2

"Tim gets some crazy hunches," Alex said, after a time, "but I don't think he'll lose any points for us--not any more."

"Let him go fish then," Andy cried. "We should worry. How about it, Don?"

Don shook his head slowly. "I'm patrol leader of the Wolves."

"And he's a Wolf scout," Andy nodded thoughtfully. "I see what you mean.

I guess you're right. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing. Maybe by next Friday he'll be over it."

But next Friday found Tim unchanged. He mingled with the other scouts, but from his patrol leader he held aloof.

A Fox scout reported late, and the Foxes lost a half-point. The score read:

PATROL POINTS

Eagle 154-1/2 Fox 161-1/2 Wolf 159-1/2

"Wow!" cried Bobbie. "Only two points behind now."

A gain by the Wolves meant little to Don just now. A belief was slowly growing in his mind that Tim had the makings of one of the best scouts in the troop. The right kind of patrol leader, he thought, would have had Tim where he belonged before this. He felt that he had been a failure.

He longed for advice and the wisdom of an older head. Barbara or his father would not do tonight; he wanted somebody who knew scouting. When the meeting was over he went slowly to Mr. Wall with his troubles.

"The little blue bugs surely have you tonight," the Scoutmaster said cheerily. "Let's reason this out. A month or so ago a frightened scout told me that some of my boys were off for Danger Mountain. Remember?"

Oh, yes, Don remembered.

"Tim led that expedition. Do you think he'd do a stunt like that now?"

"No, sir."

"Nor I," the Scoutmaster said gravely. "He's swinging around, probably because he's tied up with fellows who want to be real scouts. Would you call that failure?"

The boy was silent several minutes. "No, sir," he said at last.

Mr. Wall clapped his shoulder. "Then there's nothing left to worry about, is there?"

Don was somewhat surprised to find that there was not. The cloud had vanished. He went home with his mind at peace. He had given Tim his own head of late, and even Mr. Wall said that Tim was coming around. He'd give him his head again, and wait for the sulks to wear off.

But it was hard to work with Tim all next day against the Ironside nine, and to find him, even in the heat of the struggle, stiff and unbending.

And it was harder still to see the days of the next week pa.s.s and bring no change. For a rumor had gone through the troop that the reason Mr.

Wall had announced no contest for this month was because he was going to uncover a surprise. Don could not help feeling that the Wolves would stand very little chance. Tim, at odds with his patrol leader, would surely lack the zest and the spirit necessary to cope with unexpected orders.

Over Friday night's meeting hung the promise of something to happen.

Roll-call and inspection brought to light no derelicts. The score board read:

PATROL POINTS

Eagle 170 1/2 Fox 177 1/2 Wolf 175 1/2

The ranks broke. Usually there was play for a few minutes. Mr. Wall rapped for order at once.

"Next week," he said, "the contest for the Scoutmaster's Cup comes to an end. The final ordeal will start Friday. It will be a two-day test of your mettle. It will take place at Lonesome Woods. A treasure has been hidden there, and blazed trails will lead to the hiding place."

The room was still--startlingly still.

"This time," Mr. Wall went on, "we will have a real test of scouting. For that reason, I have decided to award ten points to the winning patrol.

There will be no second or third points."

The troop stirred. Ten points! That gave every patrol a chance. Even the Eagles, if they won, would be tied with the Foxes for winning honors.

"Each patrol leader will select a scout to accompany him into the woods.

They will enter Friday afternoon at 3:30 o'clock. Each patrol will start from a different part of the woods. They will find trees blazed with whitewash. They will follow this blaze. When night comes they will camp."

"Each two scouts by themselves?" asked a voice breathlessly.

"By themselves," the Scoutmaster answered, "unless they desire to risk capture."

The patrols murmured softly. Gosh! This was a real stunt.

"Each of the three trails leads toward the treasure; it has been hidden.

When a patrol comes to a blaze mark that has a circle around it, they will know that that is the last blaze, and that the treasure is near. Two things they must then do--search for the treasure, and avoid capture by another patrol. Any patrol surprised by another patrol will be considered captured and out of the contest."

"But suppose a patrol finds the treasure, what then?" called another voice.

"Then that patrol must make its way safely from the woods and avoid capture. If it is captured, it surrenders the treasure to the captors."

"Why," cried Don, "that's just like old-fashioned Indian warfare."

Mr. Wall smiled. "I think you'll like it. There will be another meeting Wednesday night. I want every scout to notify his patrol leader in writing whether he will be allowed to make the trip if he is chosen.

Wednesday night each patrol leader will announce the name of the scout who will accompany him into the woods. I think you're too excited to do scout work tonight. Would you prefer to talk this over?"

"Yes, sir," came a roar.

Mr. Wall laughed and waved his hands.

Instantly the room broke into riot. A night camp at Lonesome Woods, a blazed trail, a buried treasure and a threat of sudden capture! This was great!