Rod of the Lone Patrol Part 17

The scouts liked this idea, and they spent over an hour discussing it, and how they were to earn the money. Whyn was able to tell the price of the entire suit, and where it could be bought in the city.

Rod listened to this conversation, but said little. He walked home in a very thoughtful mood, and the Royals noticed that he was more silent than usual as he ate his supper. Generally he was bubbling over with news about the scouts. But now he had nothing to say of what had taken place that afternoon. Rod was worried over the suit question, as he had not the slightest idea how he was going to earn the money to buy his. He could not think of any way out of his difficulty. The other scouts had plans which would not do for him, as they were farmers'

sons, and could earn money right at home. He thought of this the last thing before he went to sleep that night, and the moment he awoke it came into his mind.

"I want you to take something for me over for Miss Arabella this morning," Mrs. Royal told him after breakfast. "The poor soul has not been well for some time, and I heard last night that she is worse. I have made up a few dainties for her as her appet.i.te is almost gone, so I understand."

Rod did not fancy this errand, for he remembered only too well the last time he had seen Miss Arabella lying so still upon the sofa after her affair of the heart. It was, therefore, with lagging steps that he made his way across the field, carrying in his hand the little basket filled with the good things Mrs. Royal had sent for the invalid.

Miss Arabella was in bed looking paler than ever, so Rod thought her nose seemed longer than he had ever seen it. She was propped up with several pillows, and her hair was done up in papers. She looked to the boy like pictures he had seen of natives with funny head-dresses out in the islands of the Pacific Ocean.

"So Mrs. Royal sent those things, did she!" she whined. "She might have come herself. She has been here only three times this week, while you haven't been near me for a long time. I might die here, and no one would care. This is what people call a Christian land, is it?"

"What's the matter with you, Miss Arabella?"' Rod asked in surprise.

"I didn't know you were sick. I have been so busy with the scouts that I haven't had time for anything else."

"Who are the scouts?" the invalid questioned. There was evidently something taking place in the parish of which she had heard nothing, and her curiosity was aroused.

Then Rod told her about the troop which had been formed, the club-room, and the wonderful girl, to all of which Miss Arabella listened with much interest.

"And do you mean to tell me that cranky old Captain Josh is looking after the scouts?" she demanded.

"Sure. He's great," was the reply.

"Well, I declare!" and Miss Arabella leaned back against the pillow as if exhausted by the idea.

"I wish you could see Whyn," and Rod gave a little sigh. "She'd do you a whole lot of good."

"Do me good! In what way, I'd like to know? I guess it would take more than her to make me better."

"But she is so jolly," Rod explained. "Her eyes are laughing all the time, and she is never cross."

"Humph!" and the invalid gave her head a toss. "If she had to put up with what I have to she would not feel that way."

"Oh, but she does, Miss Arabella. She has pains all the time, and she can't walk a step. She hasn't walked for a long time."

"She hasn't! Well, how can she laugh and not be cross?"

"I don't know for sure. But I guess she is trying to be a scout."

"What has that to do with it?"

"Quite a bit. You see, a scout has to smile and whistle no matter what happens. If he jams his finger or stubs his toe, he must smile and go on whistling just as if nothing had happened. It's hard at first, but after you learn how to do it you feel good all the time."

"And so you think I should do the same, eh?" and the woman fixed her eyes upon the boy's face.

"Not exactly, Miss Arabella," and Rod gave a little chuckle. "You might smile more than you do, but I don't think you could whistle. But maybe you can. Did you ever try?"

"No, I never did," was the snapping reply, "and I detest girls and women who can."

"But Whyn whistles," Rod explained, "and I'm sure you'd like her if you saw her. You ought to see her, Miss Arabella. I believe she'd make you better. And, besides, you'd do a good turn if you went to the Anchorage. Whyn doesn't see many women and she'd be so pleased to see you."

"What do you mean by a 'good turn'?" the invalid asked. "Is it something else the scouts have to do?"

"Sure. You see, a scout is supposed to do a good turn each day. That is, he must try to help somebody or something. When I put that key down your neck, Miss Arabella, it was only my good turn which I was doing. Captain Josh said it was the best thing to do to stop nose bleeding. Now, if you'd go to see Whyn that would be your good turn, see?"

"H'm, I guess I've got all I can do to look after myself without trying to do good turns to others," the woman sniffed. Nevertheless, when Rod had gone she thought over everything he had said, and for once forgot all about her own troubles.

CHAPTER XIII

THE VISIT

The morning after Rod's visit to Miss Arabella's, Mrs. Britt was busy in the kitchen making doughnuts. The scouts were coming that afternoon, and once a week, at least, she had some treat for them, and she knew what they liked. Mrs. Britt's interest in the boys was as keen as her husband's, and it gave her great pleasure to have them about the house. Her home life had been very lonely since Jimmy went away, so the shouting of the scouts and their merry laughter brought back other days.

She had just completed frosting a number of doughnuts, and had them all heaped upon a large plate, when the kitchen door was suddenly thrust open, and Miss Arabella burst into the room. Though the morning was very warm, a thick shawl enwrapped her shoulders, and she wore a heavy winter dress. Her eyes were wide with fright, and she was trembling so violently that she was forced to sink into the nearest chair.

"Why, Miss Arabella!" Mrs. Britt exclaimed, "are you sick? You must lie down at once."

"No, no, I'm not sick," and the visitor flapped her hands in despair.

"But your husband, Mrs. Britt, your husband, oh, oh!"

"What's the matter with him?" Mrs. Britt enquired, while her face turned suddenly pale. "Has anything happened to him? Tell me quick."

"Yes, I'm afraid so. It's awful. I didn't know he was that way. Has he been troubled long? You should take him away at once. I always knew he was queer, but I had no idea he was so bad."

"Will you please tell me what is the matter?" Mrs. Britt demanded. "I don't understand you. Joshua was all right a few minutes ago."

"Was he?" and Miss Arabella looked her surprise. "But you should see him now. He's out there in front of the house waving his arms up and down just like this," and the visitor, forgetting her weakness, leaped to her feet and imitated what she had seen the captain doing. "He was looking up at the window," she continued, "and saying things I could not understand. It sounded as if he was going over his letters, and every once in awhile he would clasp his hands before him like this, and cry 'brute.' Oh, it is terrible!"

Mrs. Britt gave a deep sigh of relief, while an amused twinkle shone in her eyes.

"Sit down, Miss Arabella," she ordered. "There is nothing wrong with Joshua. He is practising signalling, that's all. Whyn is helping him from her window. He has to teach the scouts this afternoon, and is brushing up a little. You see, every time he moves his arms he makes a letter. The alphabet is divided into groups, and at the end of each group he stops swinging his arms, and clasps his hands before him before making the next group. That is what Joshua must have been doing which frightened you so much."

"Oh, dear me!" and Miss Arabella began to fan herself with an old newspaper she picked up from off the table. "I never got such a shock in all my life. I don't know what people are coming to these days when an old man like your husband will act in such a way. I came over on purpose to see that girl you have here, and it has nearly cost me my life."

"Have one of these doughnuts, dear," Mrs. Britt soothed. "I shall get you some of my home-made wine, which will make you feel better." And the good woman bustled off to the pantry, from which she shortly emerged with a well-filled gla.s.s.

"That does make me feel better," Miss Arabella remarked, after she had drunk the wine and eaten two doughnuts. "That walk has certainly given me an appet.i.te."

"And I guess you'll feel better still when you see Whyn," Mrs. Britt replied, as she led her visitor into the front bedroom.

The invalid girl was sitting by the open window in the big chair the captain had fitted up for her. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes were sparkling with animation. She was holding a small signalling chart in her hands, at the same time giving instructions to the captain outside.

"Try that again," she was saying. "Don't hold your arms so stiff.

There, that's better."