Roy Blakeley Part 17

"It'll cut, too," he said; "and I'm going to chop down a lot of trees.

And it's my very own, isn't it?"

Jiminy, I didn't know how to answer that, so I didn't say anything, only I told him not to chop down many because he wasn't strong yet. And I told him not to chop any that didn't have chalk marks. I told him to ask Connie Bennett, and to stay near him, because Connie is the Elks' leader ever since Tom Slade went away. "You do what Connie tells you", I said.

Well, the way that kid started you'd think he was going to chop the North Pole in half. "He'd be able to chop through the equator in a couple of hours at that rate," I told Connie. But anyway, he was getting fresh air and a whole lot of fun. Some of the fellows chopped and some of them cut off the branches and tied the saplings together, three or four each, because we were going to haul them as far as the bridge and then float them down to the landing.

Every little while I looked at Skinny and he was chopping away at one sapling for dear life. He had it all full of nicks and every nick had a place all to itself.

"That isn't chopping, it's what you call woodcarving," Dorry Benton said.

"He's a good butcher, anyway," Artie said.

Every time Skinny hit, he hit in a different place and he would never get the sapling down, I saw that, but he was having the time of his life, just the same.

"Some Daniel Boone," Will Dawson said. But I told them not to make fun of him.

All the while I kept wondering if Skinny really thought that axe was his very own like he said. And it seemed sort of funny that he could be getting so much fun out of it. Oftentimes he would get tired and begin to cough and Connie would make him sit down and rest. Then he would show his axe to the fellows and match it to theirs and say he liked his best. I don't know, maybe there was something wrong about Skinny. Maybe he was more crazy about weapons than he was about scouting. He didn't seem to think ahoot anything except cutting down that sapling, and the more of a botch he made out of it, the harder he worked. I remembered something Mr.

Ellsworth said to Tom Slade about not caring more for his gun than he did for his country. But, gee, when I thought about what Skinny said about the two things he liked most, the axe and the law about honor, good night, I couldn't understand him at all.

Ill.u.s.tration #3

"Every time Skinny hit, he hit in a different place"

Pretty soon I began worrying about Westy, because something is always delaying that fellow, and I even hoped that he wouldn't stumble over any more good turns, until this day's work was over. If Westy fell out of a ten-story building, he'd do a good turn on the way down--that's the way he is.

Well, pretty soon I heard him coming through the woods on the dead run.

We all stopped working and laughed, because he was coming along like a marathon runner. All except Skinny-he went right on chopping away and the sapling looked as if a cow had been chewing it.

I don't know, but something or other made me feel kind of mad at him all of a sudden, and I didn't laugh at him.

Then he called over to me and he said, "Look how I'm chopping it down with my axe! See?" "Who's axe?" I said, because I just couldn't help it.

"Look! See?" he shouted, all excited; "ain't I a good chopper--ain't I?"

Maybe you won't understand how it was, because, gee, I can't tell things so you'll see them just right. Anyway, I'm not excusing myself, that's one thing. But I just looked over at Skinny and I said:

"I don't want to look at your axe! Shut up you little--" I was going to call him a little thief, but I'm mighty glad I didn't. "Can't you see I'm looking at something else?" I said, kind of mad. "You'd be better off if you never thought about the axe; you're a--"

Just then I heard somebody yell, "Look out, Westy, the boards are gone!

You'll have to climb!"

After that, everything seemed to be all jumbled up. I saw Skinny standing near his sapling just staring at me and he looked as if I had just hit him and he didn't understand at all. He didn't even notice all the other fellows who were running. Then I looked and I didn't see Westy, but all the fellows were heading for the ditch and I knew right away what had happened. Somebody hollered, "Get your kit, Doc, and hurry up."

There was a ditch near where the saplings grew and usually there were a couple of boards across it. But they weren't there when all of us fellows went across and we had to go down into the ditch and climb up the other side. I guess the woodsmen had taken them, maybe.

Anyway, when Westy came along the path he was running so hard he didn't notice in time that the boards weren't there, and he went head over heels into the ditch. I guess I was the last one to get there, and all the fellows were standing around and Doc was kneeling over Westy, and feeling his pulse. Westy's face was all white and there was blood coming down from his eye and he looked straight up and didn't notice anybody. All the fellows were quiet and scared, kind of, and waiting for Doc to speak. But he wasn't excited, only he said we'd better get a doctor. "It isn't a fracture," he said; "it's only a cut, but anyway, we'd better get the doctor."

Then I saw some blood on the front of Westy's khaki shirt. But Doc saw it first and he said, "Open his shirt, maybe he has something hanging from his neck that cut him. Feel and see if he has a knife in his breast pocket. Open his shirt first. Give me the iodine and some bandage, one of you fellows."

I thought I ought to be the one to open his shirt, because he was in my patrol and besides we were special friends, as you might say. So I pushed through past the others and just as I was kneeling down I saw Skinny standing up on the edge of the ditch and his eyes looked big and he was all trembling and excited. There were big red spots on his cheeks and I knew that was the consumption that showed whenever he got excited.

He was all by himself up there and he looked kind of wild--I can't exactly tell you..

Then I opened Westy's shirt and I saw he had a ring with two keys hanging there and they must have pressed into his chest and cut him. It kind of scared me, because there was so much blood, but Doc said, "Give me the iodine--that's nothing."

And I knew he knew what he was talking about.

While he was putting iodine in the cut I felt in Westy's pocket like Doc told me to do, but there wasn't any knife there. But there was something else there and I pulled it out. Oh, gee, I hate to tell you about it. It was my two dollar bill. I could tell because it was new and because it had a stain on it in the shape of a half circle.

I always kept oil on those oar-locks, so they wouldn't get rusty.

CHAPTER XXIV

TREASURE ISLAND

n.o.body noticed me, I guess, and I just scrambled up the ditch and went away behind a tree and looked at the two dollar bill again. I guess you sure know the shape of an oar-lock all right--kind of round, but open at the top. And that was just the shape of the stain on the bill. I could have laid one of my oar-locks right on that bill and covered up the stain.

Maybe you think I was glad to get the bill back but I wasn't. What did I care about that bill? Gee, a two dollar bill isn't anything, compared to a friend, it isn't. I could have another bill right away if I wanted it, and anyway, I'd be sure to get one on Monday. It was Westy I was thinking about, because you know how you heard me say we were special friends, sort of, Jiminy Christopher! I didn't care about anything now.

Even once when I lost my bronze medal I didn't feel so bad. Then I said I guessed Westy just put it in his pocket to fool me and that he was going to give it to me. But cracky, there's no use trying to kid yourself. Then, all of a sudden I thought how he wanted me to hurry and run and how he didn't want to stop and talk much about it.

Jiminy, I didn't know what to do and I just felt like going home and going up to my room and locking the door. I knew if I ever told anybody it would be either Ruth or Marjorie. It's funny how when a fellow really has a lot of trouble he'd rather tell a girl than anybody else. You can laugh at girls, but that's true. Maybe they can't run and all that, but they kind of know all about it when you have a lot of trouble. Maybe I'd tell them, tool because they'd wonder if Westy didn't come to the house any more.

Anyway, I was glad it was me to find the two dollars and none of the other fellows. I decided that as long as it wasn't any good to me I'd put it back in his pocket if I could get a chance. Then maybe it would be kind of like a memorandum to him and he'd come and give it back when he had plenty of money sometime, maybe.

But when I went back there wasn't any chance to do that, because all the fellows were still crowding around. I stood up on the edge of the ditch and I heard somebody say that El Sawyer had gone to Bridgeboro.

Doc looked up at me and he said, "It isn't bad, kiddo, don't worry." And I knew he was right and it made me feel good.

Anyway, I don't know why he called me kiddo sometimes. Because I'm leader of the Silver Fox patrol, why should he call me kiddo. But I guess he felt sorry for me, as you might say.

It was funny, but as soon as I knew Westy was going to get better, I didn't want to stay there. I was afraid he might look at me and see that everything wasn't all right. I was afraid he might see something in my eyes--you know. So I walked away, and besides, anyway, I wanted to think and I just felt I wanted to be alone by myself.

Just as I was going away one of the fellows said, "Here you go, kiddo,"

and chucked a book up at me. "You take care of it; it was in his pocket,"

he said. I guessed it was the book Westy had got out of the library and I was pretty glad because when you're all alone and haven't got any friends and everybody goes back on you, kind of, it's dandy to read a book.

Because, anyway, books never go back on you, that's one sure thing, and they don't take--anyway they're good friends. When I looked at this one, I saw it was "Treasure Island" and I was glad because I always liked that one.

That fellow, Jim Hawkins, he was a fine fellow anyway. Gee, I said to myself, I'd like to have him for a friend, that's sure. Because a fellow in a book can be a friend to you just like a real one. Even better, sometimes.

CHAPTER XXV

THE SHORT CUT