The Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill Part 25

"I never made a speech in my life," said he, "and I ain't going to make one now, but you will find the Gang true blue. We ain't much on clothes, and our folks haven't got much money, but we'll do the best we can, if you will tell us how. And we are much obliged for taking us in."

"Three cheers for Captain Donavan and Eagle Patrol," shouted Mr. Norton, waving his hat. "Now!"

I'll bet they heard us down in the village. After it was quiet again I saw Skinny whispering something to Bill. Bill nodded his head and pa.s.sed it on to Hank, and finally it came to Benny and me, who sat at the end of the line. We nodded and began to creep nearer the fire while waiting for the signal.

"Caw!" yelled Skinny, all of a sudden, like you sometimes hear a big crow in the Bellows Pipe.

As he yelled, he grabbed a burning brand out of the fire, and the rest of us did the same. Then we formed a circle and danced a war dance around the Gang, whirling our brands in the air until the sparks flew in the growing darkness and there seemed to be a ring of fire.

"Shall we eat 'em alive, my braves?" chanted Skinny.

"No," we shouted. "They are brothers."

"Shall we mop the earth with 'em?"

"No," we yelled. "They are Scouts."

"What shall we do?" asked Skinny, stopping in front of Jim, who was too surprised to say anything.

"Give them the glad hand," we answered.

"'Tis well," said he, grabbing Jim by the hand, while we did the same to the others.

"I'll tell you what," said Mr. Norton, a little later. "I feel so good over this that I'll buy. Lead me to a soda fountain."

CHAPTER XIV

PLANNING A CAMPING TRIP

WE boys often think of what a fisherman told us one summer day, out on Illinois River, at the foot of Buffalo Rock.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IT GIVES ME PAIN," SHE SAID, "TO INFORM YOU THAT THE WOODBOX IS EMPTY."]

"Play," said he, "is work that you want to do and don't have to do," or something like that.

Ma often says, when she sees us playing, that if she should make me work that hard I would think I was abused.

I guess, maybe, that is so. It surely is some work to chase uphill and around, play ball, and do all kinds of stunts, and sometimes when night comes we feel tired.

I went home to supper one day, all f.a.gged out, so tired I hardly could drag one foot after the other, and flopped down in the nearest chair.

Ma heard me and put her head in at the door.

"It gives me pain," she said, "to inform you that the woodbox is empty and I need a hotter fire to bake those biscuits that you like so well."

"Oh, Ma!" I exclaimed. "Can't you get along until morning. I'm all in."

"Why, you haven't done a thing to-day!" she told me.

I had climbed up and down Bob's Hill six times; been up to Peck's Falls and the cave once; followed the brook over rocks and fallen trees to where it tumbles out of a suns.h.i.+ny pasture into the shade of the woods in a great watery sheet; been swimming in the Basin, on the other side of the valley; played a match game of baseball at the Eagle ground; played Indian in Plunkett's woods, tracking the enemy through the forest; played foot-and-a-half, until I thought my back would break, and wrestled with Skinny, until he fell on me like a thousand of brick. But I hadn't done anything all day! Oh, no!

"You don't want me to do it, do you?" she said.

Of course, I didn't want that; so, tired as I was, I dragged out to the shed and brought in an armful of wood.

Just then I heard a whistle, followed by the caw of a crow from in front of the house, and I chased out to see what was doing.

It was Benny. He had come over to tell me that there would be a Scout meeting at his house that night.

"John's too tired," Ma told him. "He hardly was able to bring in four sticks of wood."

"I feel better now," I hurried to say. "The exercise did me good. After I have had some of your delicious biscuits and some honey, I'll be all right again. Besides, I'd hate to miss a Scout meeting; I learn so much there. Will the wood I brought in last until morning?"

"I thought Mr. Norton was away?" she said.

"He is; but they are going to have a meeting, anyhow."

"Oh, please let him go, Mrs. Smith," put in Benny. "Pedro is our secretary. We can't have the meeting without him."

Ma likes Benny so well I just knew she would have to give in. She knew it, too, I guess, for she looked at us a minute, sort of smiling to herself; then she said:

"Well, if he will come home at nine o'clock and promise to take a nap to-morrow afternoon, I'll let him go. He has been losing too much sleep lately."

I didn't think much of that nap business. Daytime wasn't made to sleep in, except, maybe, the early morning hours when you first wake up.

"I'll promise to lie down and shut my eyes," I told her, "but I can't promise to take a nap, can I? The sleep may not come."

That is true. I've laid awake a lot of times fifteen or twenty minutes and maybe more, at night, trying hard to go to sleep and not feeling a bit sleepy.

That is why I was in bed when Skinny came around the next afternoon. He knew that I would be, and instead of coming into the back yard and up on the stoop, as he usually does, he went up the drive between our house and Phillips' and whistled softly under my window.

With one bound I was out of bed and looking down at him. He had on his Scout uniform, and his rope was wound around his shoulders.

I was just going to tell him to wait until I could come downstairs, when he put one finger to his lips, then looked up and down the drive to see who was watching. There was n.o.body in sight. Ma was taking a nap in her room and I guess Mrs. Phillips was, too, across the way.

"S-s-t!" he hissed. "Are you alone?"

I nodded. It didn't seem safe to say anything.

"You ain't chained to the bed, or nothin', are you?"

"Nary a chain," I told him. "We are all out of chains."

"'Tis well!" said he, coiling up the rope in one hand and getting ready to throw. "Quick, now, and mum's the word!"