Tom Slade on Mystery Trail Part 13

THE FULL SALUTE

Great applause greeted Mr. Temple. He said:

"Gentlemen of our camp staff, visiting scoutmasters, and scouts:

"A friend of mine connected with the scout organization told me that he heard a scout say that Temple Camp without Uncle Jeb would be like strawberry short cake without any strawberries. (Great applause) I think that most scouts, including our young friend in back, would wish three helpings of Uncle Jeb. (Laughter)

"Coming from the bustling city, as I do, it is refres.h.i.+ng to see Uncle Jeb for I have never in all my life seen him in a hurry.

(Laughter) All scouts can claim Uncle Jeb, he is the universal award that every boy scout wears in his heart. (Uproarious applause)

"Scouts, this is a gala day for me. It beats three helpings of dessert----"

"Sometimes we get four," the irrepressible voice shouted.

"I have been honored by the privilege of coming here to visit you in these quiet hills----"

A voice: "Sometimes it isn't so quiet."

"and to distribute the awards which your young heroes have earned.

You can all be scouts; you cannot all be heroes. That is well, for as the old song says, 'When every one is somebody then no one's anybody.' (Laughter)

"I wonder how many of you scouts who are down for these awards realize what the awards mean? They are not simply prizes given for feats--or stunts, as you call them. To win a high honor merely as a stunt is to win it unfairly. Every step that a scout takes in the direction of a coveted honor should be a step in scouting. The Gold Cross is given _not_ to one who saves life, but to a _scout_ that saves life. Before you can win any honors in this great brotherhood, you must first be a scout. And that means that you must have the scout qualities.

"Scouting is no game to be won or lost, like baseball. After all, the high award is not for what you _do_ alone, but for what you _are_. You are not to use scouting as a means to an end.

"In trying for a high award a scout is not running a race with other scouts. There is no spirit of contest in scouting. To be a hero, even that is not enough. One must be a _scout_ hero. He must not use the animals and birds and the woods to help in his quest of glory, whether it be troop glory or individual glory. He must not ask the birds and animals to tell him their secrets simply that he may win a piece of silver or gold to hang on his coat. But he must learn to be a friend to the birds and animals. For that is true scouting.

"You will notice that on the scout stationery is printed our good motto, _'Do a good turn daily.'_ There is nothing there about high awards. Evidently the good turn daily is considered of chief importance. Nothing can supersede that. It stands above and apart from all awards. Kindness, brotherliness, helpfulness--there is no metal precious enough to make a badge for these."

As Mr. Temple turned to take the first award from Mr. Wade the a.s.semblage broke into wild applause. Perhaps Mr. Warren, sitting among his disappointed troop, hoped that Mr. Temple's words would be taken to heart by the absent member. But none of the troop made any comment.

After the distribution of a dozen or so merit badges, Mr. Temple called out, "Alfred McCord, Elk Patrol, First Bridgeboro, New Jersey Troop."

There was a slight bustle among the Bridgeboro boys to make way for their little member who started threading his way among the throng, his thin little face lighted with a nervous smile of utter delight.

"Bully for Alf!" some one called.

"Greetings, Shorty," another shouted.

He stood before Mr. Temple on the platform, trembling all over, and yet the picture of joy. His big eyes stared with a kind of exaltation. For once, his hair was smooth, and it made his face seem all the more gaunt and pale. This was the crucial moment of his life. He stood as straight as he could, his little spindle legs shaking, but his hand held up in the full scout salute to Mr. Temple. Oh, but he was proud and happy. If Hervey Willetts, wherever he was, saw him one brief thrill of pride and satisfaction must have been his.

"Alfred McCord," said Mr. Temple; "your friends and I greet you as a scout of the second-cla.s.s. Let me place on you the symbol of your achievement."

He stepped forward, just one step. Oh, but he was happy. He stood upon the platform, but he walked on air. Mr. Temple shook hands with him--Mr.

John Temple, founder of Temple Camp! Yes, sir, Skinny and Mr. John Temple shook hands. And then the little fellow turned so that the audience might see his precious badge. And the wrinkles at the ends of his thin little mouth showed very clearly as he smiled--oh, such a smile.

Then the scouts of Temple Camp showed that their wonted disregard of Skinny was only because they did not understand him, queer little imp that he was. For cheer after cheer arose as he stood there in a kind of bewilderment of joy.

"Hurrah, for the star tracker!"

"Three cheers for the sleuth of the forest!"

"No more tenderfoot!"

"Hurrah for S-S-S!" Which meant Skinny, second-cla.s.s scout.

"I congratulate you, Alfred," said Mr. Temple, pleased at the ovation.

"You have the eyes that see, and this feat of tracking which I have heard of is a fitting climax to all your efforts to win your goal--to finish what you began. Let every tenderfoot follow your example. And may the scouts of the second-cla.s.s welcome you with pride."

Skinny saw Mr. Temple's hand raised, saw the fingers formed to make the familiar scout salute--the _full_ salute. The full salute for him! He saw this and yet he did not see it; he saw it in a kind of daze.

Then he went down and stepped upon the earth again and made his way back to his seat. Those who saw him thought that he was walking, but he was not walking, he was floating on wings. And the noise about and the big trees in back, and the faces that smiled at him as he pa.s.sed, were as things seen and heard in a dream....

CHAPTER XXII

TOM RUNS THE SHOW

"William Conway, Anson Jenks, and George Winters, for Star Scout badge, and Merritt Roth and Edward Collins for bronze life saving medals. These scouts will please step forward."

Amid great applause they made their way to the platform and one by one returned, greeted with cheers.

"Gaynor Morrison of Edgemere Troop, Connecticut, is awarded the Gold Cross for saving life at imminent hazard of his own. Congratulations to him but more to his troop. Scout Morrison will please come forward."

That was the moment of pride for Edgemere Troop, Connecticut. Gaynor Morrison, tall and muscular, stood before Mr. Temple and listened to such plaudits as one seldom hears in his own honor. He went down overjoyed and blus.h.i.+ng scarlet.

"And now," said Mr. Temple, "the last award is properly not an organization award at all. It is the Temple Camp medal for order and cleanliness in and about troop cabins. It is awarded to Willis Norton of the Second Oakdale, New Jersey, Troop. And that, I think, concludes this pleasant task of distributing honors. I think you will all be glad to know that one who is a stranger to no honor wishes himself to say a few words to you now. Whatever Tom Slade may have to say goes with me----"

He could not say more. Cries of "Bully old Tom!" "Hurrah for Toma.s.so!"

"What's the matter with old Hickory Nut?" "Oh, you, Tom Slade," "Spooch, spooch!" "Hear, hear!" arose from every corner of the a.s.semblage and the cries were drowned in a very tempest of applause.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MR. TEMPLE CONGRATULATES HERVEY WILLETTS.

_Tom Slade on Mystery Trail. Page_ 124]

He never looked more stolid, nor his face more expressionless than when he arose from his chair. He was neither embarra.s.sed nor elated. If he was at all swayed by the sudden tribute, it was as an oak tree might be swayed in a summer breeze. He knew what he wanted to say and he was going to say it. He waited, he _had_ to wait, for at least five minutes, till Temple Camp had had its say.

Then he said, slowly, deliberately, with a kind of mixture of clumsiness and a.s.surance which was characteristic of him.

"Maybe I haven't got any right to speak. I'm not on the staff, and as you might say, I'm through being a scout----"

"Never, Toma.s.so!" said a voice.

"But I saw something that none of you saw and I know something that none of you know about--except Mr. Temple, that I told it to, and the trustees.