Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp Part 7

Pretty soon Skinny came up the ladder to the cabin roof where we were all sitting. His wet bathing suit stuck to him and it made him look terribly thin, and his hair was all streaked and the water was dripping from his face. But anyway, his eyes were bright and all excited--I never saw another fellow that had eyes like that. He had the piece of candy in his hand and it was all melting from the water and his hand was black and sticky. Jiminy, he looked awful small and skinny alongside of Mr. Ellsworth, and I had to feel sorry for him as soon as Mr. Ellsworth began to speak.

Skinny looked up at him and said, "I got it--I dived and got it--see--I saved it--I didn't eat it. I can swim under the water. Now can I have the badge?" Cracky, the way he stared, if I'd had the badge, I'd have torn it off my arm and handed it to him, honest I would.

Mr. Ellsworth just looked at him and said, "No, you may not have the badge. Before you can have the badge for swimming you must be a better scout. You must learn to be obedient. You heard one of your patrol tell you not to go under water. You heard your patrol leader tell you to get into the skiff. Do you think you know better than they do, what is best for you?"

Even still he didn't pay any attention, he was so excited. "Now am I a hero?" he said.

"No, you are not a hero," Mr. Ellsworth told him; "and you will go inside and get your uniform on. The first duty of a scout is to obey his leader, and you have failed to do that. You are very much mistaken as to the meaning of heroism, and it wasn't necessary to bring us any proof that you got the candy or whatever that is. Scouts are not in the habit of lying and deceiving. We expect always to believe you without proof. Throw that away and go inside and get your clothes on."

Gee, maybe he was right, but anyway, I felt mighty sorry for Skinny.

His eyes were all full of tears and he went over to the rail and threw the sticky jaw-breaker out into the water. I I could see by his neck that he was gulping and trying not to cry and, oh, boy, it made me feel bad. It seemed as if it was always that way with him--that he had to be disappointed and that things never came out right with him. Anyway, I said to myself, it's Connie's fault, and all the rest of the Elks are to blame, too. Why didn't they tell him in the beginning about those other things. All they cared about was showing their new member off to the rest of the troop, and you see how it ended.

First I thought I'd go in and talk to Skinny and tell him he was a wonder, for that was just what he was, and Mr. Ellsworth knew it, too.

Then I decided that I'd better not on account of Connie. And anyway, I wouldn't have any right to go in and spoil what our scoutmaster said, would I?

CHAPTER XI

TELLS YOU HOW TO GET TO TEMPLE CAMP

Gee whiz, I wouldn't say anything against the Elks, that's sure, because they're all peachy scouts when you come right down to it, but I have to admit that they're crazy about stunts. They have more merit badges in their patrol than there are in the Ravens and Silver Foxes put together. Hunt Ward's sleeve looks like one of those Indian totem poles, there are so many badges on it. Anyway, I should worry, we have twenty-two badges in our patrol, and more good turns in the troop book than either of the other patrols. That's what counts, too--good turns.

The trouble with the Elks was that every time they got a new fellow, he must take a header for some badge or other and most always he would have two or three stunt badges (that's merit badges, you know) waiting for him when he pa.s.sed his first cla.s.s tests. "Begin at the beginning,"

that's what Mr. Ellsworth always said, and he says it's more important to know the scout oath and follow it, than it is to get the eagle, award. Connie's a good patrol leader all right; gee, n.o.body can say he isn't, but he's crazy about stunts and merit badges. He always seemed to think that that was all there was to scouting. But believe me, there's many a girl wears a sailor hat who screams when she gets in a boat. Anyway, I'm not going to be knocking anybody.

Well, the next day in the middle of the night--I mean the next night early in the morning--I mean when it was just getting light, after the night after the next day--we got to Catskill Landing, and oh, boy!

wasn't I glad! We tied the houseboat to an old pier maybe a couple of hundred yards above the regular landing, and had a good swim and then breakfast before we started up to camp. Mr. Ellsworth let Skinny go in, but he told him to be careful not to disobey his leaders or he'd have to come out.

Jimmy, it was funny to see that kid. I don't know how to tell you about it, but he seemed to kind of swim different from the other fellows, and he couldn't help getting excited. They threw pieces of stick for him to get, and he would swim out and bring them in in his mouth just like a dog, and then wait for more, all anxious like. One thing about Skinny I noticed, and that was that all the fellows, even in his own patrol, got a lot of fun out of him, making him do things, but n.o.body exactly seemed to make friends with him. Anyway, I guess he didn't care, he was always so crazy about what he was doing. Even a lot of summer people stood around on the sh.o.r.e, watching him in the water and saying he was a wonder. I guess they didn't know what to do with themselves, hey?

Mostly that's the way it is with summer people.

I flopped some flapjacks for breakfast and El Sawyer (he's a Raven) hung one of them around his neck for a souvenir. He's a fresh kid.

Maybe you think it's easy to flop flapjacks--I should worry.

Oh, boy, now comes the best part of this whole story. As soon as we could get our stuff into the duffel bags and the boat all tied fast, we started out on our hike for Temple Camp. You can bet I always like to hike, but early in the morning, oh, it's simply great. Some fellows can drink sodas early in the morning but I can't, but anyway, early hikes are my middle name. You know, just when the sun is coming up, all red like, and peeking over the hill, just as if it was stalking.

Oh, boy, if scouts could only sneak up as quiet as all that!

Now the way you get to Temple Camp is to hike up through Catskill village till you get to the old turnpike road, and then go straight along that till you come to a big boarding house, where there are a lot of people sitting on the porch waiting for breakfast or dinner or supper, or time to go to bed. Then you hit the road up through the woods till you come to a turtle. I guess he isn't there now, but anyway, he was there last year. Then you cut up through the woods and follow the scouts' signs, and you'll come out at Leeds--that's a village. You'll see all the summer people waiting for their mail at the post office. Some of them will say, "Oh, there go some boy scouts, aren't they cute?" They always say that. There's a stationery store there too, where you can buy fishhooks and marshmallows, and other things to eat. I don't mean you eat fishhooks.

Anyway, you go down Main Street till you come to a smell like rotten wood and then you turn in where the willow trees are and you come to an old sawmill. If you holloa from there, they can hear you at camp. Then you cut through the woods and follow the trail till all of a sudden you come plunk out on the edge of the lake and it's all surrounded by woods. That's Black Lake, and believe me, black is my favorite color when it comes to lakes. Then you go across in the boats to Temple Camp.

Mr. John Temple started Temple Camp. He's rich and owns a lot of railroads and things. He used to be mad at the scouts, but after a while when he saw what kind of fellows scouts are, he got glad at them and started Temple Camp. He's awful grouchy when you first see him, but you should worry about that. Once, when he was out west about some railroads, he saw Jeb Rushmore, who was a trapper and all that, and he was getting old, so Mr. Temple made him come to Temple Camp to be camp manager and live there. Oh, boy, you're going to see him in just a minute and I can hardly wait.

CHAPTER XII

TELLS ALL ABOUT OUR ROW ON BLACK LAKE

So that's the way we went to Temple Camp, but there are short cuts to the Hudson besides that When we got near to the lake we all got anxious--you know how a fellow is when he's almost to a place he's been thinking about a lot.

Doc Carson said, "I see the water is still wet." That was just to jolly Pee-wee.

"That's because of the recent rains," I said.

"The which?" Artie asked me.

"You think you're smart talking about _recent rains,_ don't you?"

Pee-wee shouted. "You got that out of a book."

"I bet there'll be a lot of troops there this summer," El Sawyer said.

Pretty soon I saw he was right, too, because five boats came across to get us and there was a strange scout in every single one of them. Uncle Jeb was waiting at the landing on the other side to meet us, and oh, cracky, didn't it look good to see the big pavilion and the tents and patrol cabins upside down in the water. There were a lot of scouts waiting too, and I could see the camp was pretty full.

Uncle Jeb said, "Wall, Roay"--that's just the way he talks, slow like; "haow's all the boys from Bridgeboro? I reckon little Pee-wee ain't growed at all. Hain't you never goin' ter grow, Pee-wee? And Artie and Grovey, and El, and Hunter Ward and, let's see, Vic Norris--every plaguy one of yer here. Ain't none of yer died or gone off ter war, hey? And there's Connover Bennett, too, large as life, and still crazy about raisin cake, I reckon. Wall, wall, it's good ter see ye all."

I said, "It's good to see you, too, Uncle Jeb, gee, all the fellows were crazy to see you, that's one sure thing."

"And still making them flapjacks, hey?" he said; "I remember when one uv them New Hampshire scouts scaled one uv them flapjacks uv your'n across the lake. I reckon you're the same old Roay that put the mosquito dope in the biscuits. Yer remember that?" Cracky, I'm not going to tell you anything about my past life, but summer before last up there--_oh, boy!_

Most of the morning we rested up and got our patrol cabins cleaned out and all fixed up, and in the afternoon we banged around and got acquainted with some of the new troops.

Just before supper, Westy and I went down for a swim and there were Connie Bennett and two or three of the Elks diving with Skinny. A whole lot of fellows were standing around watching. Most of them laughed at Skinny, but they all had to admit he was a crackerjack. I knew the Elks were just kind of showing him off and putting him through a lot of freak stunts just to get their name up around the camp.

After supper, Westy and I and a new fellow in an Ohio troop were rowing around near the sh.o.r.e. He was an awful nice fellow--quiet like--just like me, only different. All of a sudden we noticed Skinny standing on the sh.o.r.e and he called out and asked us if we'd take him in.

"Better watch your step," Westy said; "safety first."

"Where's your patrol?" I called to him.

"They went on a hike," he called back; "can I go with you?"

"You go and ask Mr. Ellsworth," I said; "and if he says it's all right, come ahead."

We could see him scooting pell mell around the edge of the cooking shack, his spindle legs as thin as sticks. Bert Winton (that was the new fellow) watched him, kind of laughing, and then he said, "Queer little codger, isn't he?"

I said, "Yes, he's new and he came out of the slums. I guess he'll never work in harness; that's what our scoutmaster says."

"Swims like an eel," Winton said; "why didn't they take him hiking, I wonder?"

"Hanged if _I_ know," Westy said; "he's going to win them the swimming badge, all right. But he doesn't seem to be friends with them exactly.

They make good use of him, anyway."

"Kind of a performing bear, hey?" Bert said.

"Something like that," I told him; "I wish I had him in my patrol, I know that."