Pathfinder Part 11

"Now, start out, fellows, and let's see who'll be the lucky one to discover this hidden shack where these men must stay nights," Elmer concluded.

"Say, hold on here! Is _that_ what you're looking for--a hidden shack?

Why, I can take you to one right now," called out a voice.

The speaker was Landy Smith.

CHAPTER VII.

THE AMBITION OF LANDY.

Every boy became suddenly stationary when this surprising intelligence broke from the lips of the new member, who, like three others in the troop, did not wear a khaki uniform.

Elmer had several times let his eye fall on the stout boy, as though trying to guess what his manner indicated.

He had seen Landy come up last of all, panting so for breath that not one word had he spoken while the scout master was explaining things.

Landy was not only a tenderfoot scout, but he had in a number of ways proven his right to the t.i.tle of greenhorn.

Imagine, then, the utter amazement of his comrades when he so coolly declared that he might be able to lead them to a hidden shack.

Elmer, if surprised, did not allow this fact to interfere with his plain duty.

"Come here, Landy," he said, and the stout new recruit hastened to do as he was ordered.

Of course Landy would not have been human, and a boy, had he been able to repress the grin that forced itself upon his rosy countenance.

Perhaps he remembered saying not so very long ago that the time might come when he would be able to prove his ability to carry the name of a scout.

Of course at the time Landy could never have even dreamed the opening would arrive so soon. That made it all the more welcome. Perhaps now, some of the fellows who loved to tease him, and say that he was too fat and slow-witted to ever be a shining success in the Hickory Hill troop, would change their tune.

Landy's hour had come. He was in the lime light, and occupied the center of the stage.

Mindful of the respect due his superior officer, Landy saluted as he clicked his heels together, and stood at attention before the scout master.

"You say you can show us where there is a hidden shack or cabin, do you, Number Eight?"

Elmer frequently addressed the boys by the number they held in their patrol, and as Landy was the last one admitted into the Wolf Patrol he went as Number Eight.

"Yes, sir," the tenderfoot replied, quite enjoying the fact that fifteen pairs of eager eyes were riveted upon him right then and there.

Landy looked redder than usual, but for all that he seemed able to command his voice, for it did not tremble a particle.

"You arrived later than the rest when I sounded the a.s.sembly on the bugle," went on Elmer; "was that because you were some little distance away?"

"Yes, sir, I was just going to peek in through the window of that funny little cabin I found when I heard the call. But I didn't look, sir, because I knew _a scout's duty was to obey_!"

"Hear, hear!" said Red, in a low voice.

"That was well done, Number Eight," Elmer continued, "and I hope you will always keep your duty before your mind. Do you think you could lead us to where you saw that hidden shack?"

"I expect I can, sir; anyhow, I'm ready to try," Landy promptly answered.

Several of the scouts exchanged nods and glances. Why, they had never before dreamed that the fat boy had so much business about him. He acted just as might one who had been a member of the troop a whole month, instead of but a few days.

It was plain to be seen that his becoming a scout was going to be the making of Philander Smith. Already there was a great change in his ways.

He was throwing off his weaknesses, and beginning to think for himself.

"All right," said Elmer; "suppose you come with me, then, Number Eight, and try to go back over your own trail. That might be the quickest way to get there."

"But how about us, Mr. Scout Master; do we keep up the formation as arranged?" asked Mark.

"No, for the present that is all off," Elmer replied, "the whole of you fall in behind; and don't forget to keep an eye out for your sticks. But no talking above a whisper, remember. This may turn out to be serious business."

The scouts already realized this. Still his words of caution entailing silence were well placed, for boys as a rule do love to chatter.

And so the whole troop started off, with Elmer and Landy in the lead, the latter hardly knowing whether to be tickled at the attention he was receiving, or worried because he presently began to doubt his ability to "deliver the goods."

Strange how all sections of the woods look alike to a fellow who is a novice in the art of picking his way. Landy had imagined that he was just soaking in valuable information while following the lead of Matty or Elmer. But when the crisis arose, and he found himself placed upon his own responsibility, he lost confidence.

Pretty soon Elmer guessed the truth, and that their guide was getting what Lil Artha would call "wabbly." This was when he took them twice to the same spot and then looked pained.

"Up a stump, fellows," chuckled Larry, who had perhaps himself felt a little twinge of jealousy because a greenhorn had so suddenly leaped into the front when older and more experienced scouts had been unable to score.

But Elmer was not at all dismayed. In fact, to tell the actual truth, he had rather expected that the new beginner might find more or less trouble in carrying out his orders.

"Getting mixed up some, are you, Number Eight?" he demanded, as Landy scratched his head and then tenderly caressed quite a good-sized lump they now saw he had on his forehead.

"Well, I'm sorry to say, sir, I seem to be a little confused," admitted the fat boy; "but then perhaps that ain't to be wondered at if you knew just how hard I b.u.mped into that crooked tree yonder."

"With your head?" asked Elmer.

"Yes, sir," replied Landy; "you see I was trying to hurry, when my foot caught in a vine and I went ker-slam right against that tree. Say, but I saw ten million stars right then! and that's no exaggeration, sir."

"Why do you say it was this tree, Number Eight?" the young disciple of woodcraft continued.

"Well, it was impressed pretty forcibly on my head, and my mind, too, sir," grinned Landy, "and perhaps, if you looked, you could find the dent I bet I made when I struck."

Some of the boys snickered at this. Not so Elmer, who seemed to feel he had quite a serious proposition on his hands, and that the others had a right to look to him to untangle the knot.

"I'll soon find out," he said, and then turning to the crowd he added: "keep back and give me a chance to see if Landy is right."

"He's after the trail, that's what," said one of the scouts, as they saw Elmer advance to where the crooked tree pointed out by the fat recruit stood, and bend down at its base.

Every eye remained glued on the young scout master. Not a word more was said, for they knew that explanation of Elmer's movements must be the right one.