The Banner Boy Scouts Part 16

There was a great difference in the boys of the town.

Few who were of the proper age but who belonged to one or the other of the troops; and people were beginning to notice how much more manly they carried themselves, and how anxious they seemed now to get credit marks at home.

Parents upon meeting never failed to talk about this wonderful change, and express hopes that it would last.

"The best thing that ever happened, barring none, I think," was what the old minister declared, at a meeting of the Women's Club; "and it deserves to be encouraged. Why, you ladies should take advantage of this wave of reform, to get these lads interested in keeping the streets of the town clean. Give me fifty willing workers among the boys, and I warrant you there will never be a stray piece of paper blowing around. They'll provide receptacles for trash, and see that everybody uses them."

And so it went around, and everybody seemed delighted at the innovation.

Only a few skeptical old fogies shook their heads, and declared that it was too good to last, and that they about expected to see the boys of Stanhope transplanted to the heavens in a body presently, since their wings must be sprouting.

About this time it came to the ears of Paul that the banner which the peace-loving Quaker, Mr. Westervelt, had offered for the most proficient troop of scouts along the Bushkill, had been placed on exhibition in the window of a jewelry store over in the manufacturing town of Manchester.

He and Jack wheeled over that very day to inspect the coveted trophy.

When they saw what a beauty it was, their hearts thrilled with new aspirations.

"Worth fighting hard for, eh, Paul?" observed Jack.

"I should say, yes," replied the other, delight written in big letters on his face, pressed so close to the gla.s.s; "and I reckon it would do our fellows lots of good just to run down here to look at that dandy banner.

I must tell them all about it, and have them see it for themselves."

"A bully good idea. You know how to get a fellow to put his best licks into any job he undertakes," declared his chum, admiringly.

"Humbug!" scornfully replied Paul; "why, it's as easy as falling off a log. Don't you feel more like straining every nerve in the effort to win that prize, after seeing how handsome it is? Well, I just try to believe every fellow is more or less like I am. That's the whole secret. Yes, Stanhope must work hard to catch up with the other fellows."

There were several boys standing around, also gaping at the fine snowy banner, upon which as the card under it, went on to state, was to be embroidered with colored silk the totem of the leading patrol of the successful troop.

These fellows could not help knowing who the strangers in town were; and it was also easy for them to guess what had brought Paul and Jack down there. More than a few times had they seen these Stanhope boys competing on the athletic field, either in baseball, or football. And of course it was always good form for Manchester lads to "josh" any would-be rivals.

"Yes," said one of the natives, with a grin, "up in that corner is where the eagle is going to be painted. And every time we go on a hike we'll carry that banner at the head of the procession."

"They say," remarked another, with pretended innocence, "that poor old Stanhope is getting up a troop, and even hopes to have a try for this beauty. Now, what do you think about the nerve of that, fellows?"

"Oh! well, the more the merrier," came from a third, whom Paul knew to be the scout leader of the "Eagles" in person, "and after all, we don't mind showing these tenderfeet scouts how to do stunts. None of us want to be hogs, boys. There's room enough for all, even if some do have to eat the husks."

Paul had to laugh out loud at this.

"Say, you're on to us, all right, Manchester," he said, turning around.

"Yes, we've come down here just to take a peep at this great prize. Of course we'd like mighty well to say we meant to win it; but we're too modest for that. The most we admit is that we mean to make a try for it.

Of course we haven't got much show against two such veteran troops as Manchester and Aldine; but we want to get all the fun out of the game we can. And you won't begrudge us that, Claypool?"

"Sure we won't, Morrison," returned the other, frankly, thrusting out his hand; "as I said before, the more in it the better. It will make our victory look bigger."

"Glad to see you're so dead sure of winning out," laughed Paul; "whenever the Stanhope boys go into anything they always work harder if they have big odds against them. But all the same that's a bully good banner, and no matter whether it has an eagle, the head of a beaver, or that of a fox worked on it in colored silk, it's going to be something we'll all be proud of as Boy Scouts."

"That's well put, Morrison; though you might just as well get it out of your head now as later that the Manchester fellows will ever let any crowd come in here and take that dandy flag away. Why, our fellows know ten times as much about scout tactics as your greenhorns do now."

Claypole did not mean to be overbearing; when he said this he really believed it to be an actual fact.

"That's very true," said Paul, quietly, as he and his chum prepared to mount their wheels for the return journey; "but Thanksgiving is still more than two months off; and Claypole, I give you my word, we've got some of the smartest tenderfeet in the Stanhope troop you ever heard of. Ta-ta, boys!"

Of course, when Paul and Jack told what they had seen, every fellow wanted to make the run over to Manchester to look for himself. And, just as Paul had expected, they came back home more than ever enthused with the hope and prospect of winning that royal banner for the Stanhope troop.

At the next meeting the talk was all about the prize, and a vote was even taken to ascertain to whom the honor of being the banner bearer might fall, in case the victory was awarded to Stanhope. Wallace Carberry turned out to be the lucky standard bearer.

All of which was just what clever Paul wanted. He had infused a new stimulant into the veins of his comrades. And at their next outdoor rally, when various contests were undertaken to discover who showed the most skill, he found that the very atmosphere seemed to be surcharged with electricity; for the boys labored to excel as they had never done before; but it was because each one believed that upon his shoulders alone devolved the duty of bringing that beautiful prize to Stanhope.

Four days later the expected suits arrived, much sooner than even the most sanguine had antic.i.p.ated.

Then there _was_ a time.

The usually quiet and peaceful streets of the town were fairly filled with khaki-clad warriors, strutting up and down, exchanging military salutes, and arousing the admiration of all the girls, who came forth to gaze and applaud.

It was a great day for Stanhope. A stranger visiting there for the first time might think some military academy must have taken up fall quarters near by, and granted full liberty to its uniformed hosts.

If there were those who had been hesitating about joining either of the troops, a decision must certainly follow the first glimpse of those gallant uniforms.

That night many a lad ate supper as an honored guest at his father's table; for surely the wearer of a uniform must be ent.i.tled to unusual privileges.

Of course the word had gone around for a meeting of the Stanhope No. 1.

But it was not to be held at the Shipley barn--oh! no, those boys had had "quite a sufficiency," as Bobolink said, of their former quarters; and Bluff admitted that his father would not dare use the building again that year for his tobacco crop.

Jason Carberry, father of the twins, had asked as a favor that they make use of his big smithy; and since the night air was cool, Paul had accepted this generous proposition of the blacksmith on the spot.

So that was where they came together, a uniformed organization, at last.

CHAPTER XIII

"FIRE!"

"Man the bellows, somebody."

"Yes, stir up the fire in that forge, William. It's the coldest September night on record, and that's a fact!" exclaimed Bobolink, as he pushed the lively member of the Carberry team toward the smouldering fire left by the blacksmith when he gave over his capacious smithy to the Boy Scouts for their meeting.

"M-m-my dad s-s-says he once lost his t-t-t-tobacco c-crop in S-s-september!" observed Bluff, shaking his head as he pushed toward the fire.

The boys had had a fine meeting.

Besides the twenty-two in their new uniforms, four new recruits had been present, to drink in with eager ears all that pa.s.sed, and sigh for the day to come when they too might shine forth in such resplendant suits.

Already was there much rivalry shown in the many compet.i.tions which the young scout leaders had inst.i.tuted. There was a cla.s.s on aviation, another that had taken up the mysteries of camping with all its fascinating details; a third chose photography as the most entrancing subject, and exhibited many pictures that were to be entered in the great contest of the county for the banner.

Then several boys had doubled, for surely the knowledge of cookery went hand in hand with that of camping; while a good stalker could at the same time enter for a merit badge in the path-finding line.

Besides, though the season was late for swimming, several fellows who knew just what their best accomplishment might be, had qualified to enter this cla.s.s.