Tom Slade : Boy Scout of the Moving Pictures Part 26

"Yes-mam."

"I hardly knew you."

Mrs. Bennett's housewifely instincts would not permit her to give any sign of surrender until she had proof of the cooking. But away down in her mother's heart was an uncomfortable feeling which she could not overcome; a feeling of disappointment and dissatisfaction with her own son. She had too much pride to show it, but Connover felt in some vague way that she was not well pleased. She was a mother of high ideals and she was not undiscerning. Aside from her son's disobedience, which had been a shock to her, what an inglorious afternoon had been his! It seemed that every one about her had done something worthy that afternoon except her own son. There lay his victim, the O'Connor boy, bearing his suffering in silence. She noticed that the boys seemed somehow to make allowance for Connover, and it touched her pride.

While the last few touches for this special meal were preparing, she and Mr. Ellsworth wandered a little way out of camp. He spoke kindly, almost indulgently, she thought, but as one who knew his business and was qualified to speak. He had stormed Mrs. Bennett's fortress too many times to mince matters now.

"I don't know that you're really to blame, Mrs. Bennett--except indirectly."

"I--to blame?"

"I blame _Dan Dreadnought_."

"I _never_ approved of Captain Dauntless' books," she said. "It was a compromise."

"Look up there, Mrs. Bennett--see that nest? Would you believe it, the boys got a photograph of the young birds in that nest and the old bird never knew it."

They walked along, he swinging a stick whick he had broken from a tree.

"There is no such man as Captain Dauntless, you know. Captains in the army have other work to do than to write stories for boys. Captain Dauntless is a myth."

"It is so hard to know what boys should read," she sighed.

"It is not as hard as it used to be. Remind me to give you a paper before you go. You see, if Connie had been a scout,--well now, let's begin at the beginning. If he had been a scout he wouldn't have read those books in the first place; they're really not books at all, they're infernal machines. Then if he had been a scout, of course, he wouldn't have disobeyed you; he wouldn't have sneaked off----"

Mrs. Bennett set her lips rather tight at that word, but she did not contest the point.

"If he had been a scout he wouldn't have killed a robin--but if he _had_ killed a robin, it would have been by skill and not by a silly, dangerous random shot--and he wouldn't have been afraid of the presence of death or the sight of blood. If he had been a scout he could have determined unerringly the locality of sounds and human voices, and Charlie O'Connor wouldn't----"

Mrs. Bennett winced.

"If he had been a scout he would have known how to swim; there isn't a member of my troop that can't swim. And if he had been a scout he wouldn't have been afraid to go home. Connie has the best home in the world, Mrs. Bennett----"

"I have done everything for Connover----"

"But you see, he was afraid to go to it--and so he came here with us."

The cheerful call of the bugle told that supper was ready. Through the trees they could see the scouts a.s.sembling until each stood at his place at the long board under trees whose foliage had begun to dim in the fading light.

"It's a pretty sight," she said, pausing and raising her lorgnette to her eyes. "What are they all standing for?"

"Till you have taken your seat."

Smilingly she started toward them with all the cultured affability of a true guest. She knew how to do this thing, and she was quite at home now. Mr. Ellsworth knew that her manner covered a sense of humiliation, but she carried it off well and so together they came out of the woods into the clearing.

"I was saying that he came here and--and we want him to stay here. Will you let him join us, Mrs. Bennett?"

"Would he have two blankets over him at night?" she asked after a moment's dismayed pause.

The question was not a surrender; it was a flag of truce, meaning that she would discuss terms.

The surrender came after supper.

CHAPTER XIX

FIRST AID BY WIRELESS

IT never rains but it pours, and the conversion of Mrs. Bennett to scouting was shortly followed by the greatest catch of the season.

Charlie O'Connor came into the troop on the same wave which brought Connover, and East End contingent, though it did not surrender as yet, retired to the sweltering and almost deserted Bridgeboro, and tried to kindle a fire in Temple's lot after the Camp Ellsworth fashion. The effort was not very successful.

The next day Jakie Mattenburg, on the strength of talk he had overheard in camp, tried his hand, or rather, his foot, at stalking, and was surprised to find that it was rather more interesting to watch the movements of a sparrow than to throw stones at it.

It could hardly be said that this band of seasoned hoodlums made much immediate progress toward scouting, but they remembered their rescue from the river at Roy's hands, and they accorded him thereafter a grudging measure of consideration which, in the fullness of time, blossomed into genuine friendship. They were, in fact, the future Elk Patrol in its chrysalis form; but their career as scouts is part of another story.

A few days after the events of the preceding chapter the troop's birthday was celebrated in camp and Connover and Charlie O'Connor submitted themselves to Roy, who tied a pink ribbon about the right arm of each. From Connover's ribbon depended a card reading,

_Chief With Many Happy Returns from The Silver Foxes_

while Charlie O'Connor was presented as the gift of the Ravens.

The presentations were made at supper and the two tenderfeet were led (with rather sheepish faces) to Mr. Ellsworth at the head of the table and tendered to him in true birthday fashion amid much laughter.

Roy made a characteristic speech. "These two valuable gifts are presented to our beloved scoutmaster with twelve profit-sharing coupons. When you get one hundred of these coupons take them to Temple's lot in Bridgeboro and receive a new scout.

"Honorable Charles O'Connor has always had brothers enough, but now he has a few hundred thousand more, so he ought to be satisfied. This priceless gift" (grabbing Connover by his pink ribbon) "was very difficult to procure; it is _what you have always wanted_. If it doesn't fit you can exchange it. Honorable Bennover Connett is the only survivor, ladies and gentlemen--the _only survivor_ of the extinct Eureka Patrol! The Eureka Patrol was a part of the only original c.o.c.k and Bull Troop of Nowhere-in-Particular. The records of this troop, known as the _Dan Dreadnought Series_, are donated to Camp Ellsworth for fuel in case the kindling wood runs short. Full and implicit directions go with each gift."

It was a gala occasion in camp and the troop sat late about the roaring fire that night.

They were just raking up the last embers preparatory to turning in when they were startled by the sound of running footsteps, and out of the darkness emerged a dark-cloaked figure with streaming hair and glints of white under the heavy garment which she wore.

"I--lost the path," she gasped, "and--and then I saw your--light--and-oh, Mr. Ellsworth--the house--was robbed and James--is shot and-there's another man shot--and it was all planned for they've cut the wires--and we have to get help--a doctor----"

It was Mary Temple who gasped this shocking news and then all but collapsed from fear and haste and excitement. An automobile coat had been donned over her nightdress. For a few moments she was utterly unable to give a coherent account of what had happened at Five Oaks.

The few minutes during which she had been lost in the woods, together with the appalling events at home, had quite unnerved her and she clung to Mr. Ellsworth, looking affrightedly about her as if she were being pursued.

He did not wait to get at the details. Something had happened and medical aid was needed. That was apparent.

"Did they send you?" he asked.

"No--I just came--I know scouts can do anything."

"Yes," he said concurrently.

"Of course, we can't get a real doctor, but--"