Roy Blakeley Part 15

"You forget it," I said, and I decided I'd give Pee-wee a good bawling out after the meeting. Then I started straightening Skinny's suit and telling him how swell he looked and how he must always take off his hat to ladies. He was interested all right, but I could see how the belt-axe kind of had him, and I suppose it was because it was bright and s.h.i.+ny and a weapon, sort of. That's the way it is with lots of fellows when they start being scouts.

We tried to get him to go in the house to supper with us and then go to the meeting, but he was kind of scared and wouldn't. I guess it was because I live in a big house and because my father is rich--but anyway, he never acts that way, that's one sure thing. And, gee, n.o.body can say Ruth and Marjorie wouldn't have been nice to him too. So we left him in the tent and told him to read the Handbook, but to be sure to go home and get his supper in time to be at the meeting that evening. We made him the full salute just for fun, and oh, didn't he smile and look proud. I bet he was proud going up Main Street too.

"I'd like to get my hands on that kid," I said to Westy, as we went across the lawn; "he makes me sick with his heroes and his n.o.ble rags and his belt-axes. He's got that poor kid's brain full of fancy stuff before he's even a scout."

"That's just like him," Westy said, "but he'll get over it."

"Emblem of the woods!" I said. "Did you hear that?"

"I guess he told Skinny we were going to chop down some saplings to-morrow for stanchions on the boat," Westy said.

"Goodness knows what he didn't tell him." I said, "Skinny will be chopping down all the fence rails in Barrel Alley if Pee-wee has his way."

Oh, boy, we had huckleberry pie for supper, and didn't Westy and I have two helpings!

"There's only one thing scouts like about huckleberry pie," my father said, "and that's the taste of it."

CHAPTER XXI

SOMETHING MISSING

After supper Westy and I started for troop meeting. It was getting dark fast and we went scout-pace down the hill, because after all that had happened you bet we didn't want to be late. No, siree.

All the while we were talking about just what I ought to say when I presented Skinny to the Elks, because that's what we were going to do that night. And I was the one to do it, because I was patrol leader.

Westy had a blue ribbon, because that's the Elks' color, and he was going to pin it on Skinny with an express tag that he got that day.

He had it all written nice and neat on the tag.

From the Silver Foxes to the Elks.

Handle with Care.

I told him to put prepaid on it, too, and then he said it would be a good idea to put some thrift stamps on Skinny's face. Jiminy, that fellow Westy has some crazy ideas.

"Believe me, it'll be great," he said.

"The Elks will have some training to do, that's one thing," I said.

"He'll learn soon enough, all right," Westy answered.

"I guess it would be a good stunt to have a flag sticking up out of his collar," I said; "he won't mind, he'll just smile. He doesn't get mad, that's one good thing about him."

"I like to see that smile, don't you?" Westy said, "it's kind of bashful like."

"He's going to pan out all right," I said, "you take it from me."

Then we said how it might be good to put him in a barrel and mark it "A gift from Barrel Alley," but we decided not to because it might make him feel so kind of bashful and scared--you know what I mean.

All the while I knew what I was going to say, and this was it:

Scouts of the Elk Patrol, we present you with this testimonial (my sister said that was a good word to use) of our steam--I mean esteem. You get fifty green trading stamps besides. This youth is positively guaranteed to grow, if kept in the sun and to win the pathfinder's badge before the summer is out. He is made of fast colors and will not run--except when he's tracking. He should be kept away from explosives such as Pee-wee Harris.

With love and kisses from the Silver Foxes.

"Oh, it will be great!" Westy said, "we'll do it before Mr, Ellsworth takes up the collection for the cruise, hey?"

"G--o--o--d night!" I said and I stopped short.

"What's the matter ?" Westy said.

"I'm glad you said that," I told him; "I forgot my two bucks."

"I'll go back," Westy said; "you wait here." There wasn't any time to stop him and anyway, he can beat me running, I have to admit that.

"Where did you leave it?" he called back.

"I laid it right on the table," I shouted, "and I laid an oar-lock on it to keep it from blowing away. Feel around and you'll get It. Hurry up."

I saw him going back up the hill for all he was worth and then I sat down beside the road to wait for him. I got to thinking about the house-boat and the fun we'd have cruising up the Hudson and how Skinny would get fat and eat a lot, and especially how he'd stare when he saw Jeb Rushmore. He's our camp manager, and just wait till you see him, that's all I say.

But mostly I was thinking about the fun we'd have presenting Skinny to the Elks, and, oh, boy, I could just see Mr. Ellsworth laugh with that funny laugh he has--trying not to. And you can bet I was glad we had Skinny started. Because when a fellow once gets on the trail, he's a goner. Oh, bibbie, that was going to be some meeting! Pretty soon Westy came running back down the hill.

"Did you get it?" I asked him, but, of course, I knew he did. He was so much out of breath that he couldn't answer and even after he stopped he had to pant it out, kind of.

"It wasn't there," he said.

"Wasn't there!" I said; "you're crazy. Sure it was there. Where did you look?"

"I looked just where you said," Westy panted, "and all around besides.

First, I felt all around with my hand and I lifted the oar-lock and it wasn't underneath it."

"Maybe you got the wrong oar-lock," I said, all excited; "there are two of them."

"The other one was hanging up," he said; "I found your flashlight on the duffel-bag and poked the light all around and I saw the other oar-lock hanging up. I threw the light on the ground, too, because there's a pretty strong breeze up there."

"How could the breeze blow it away when it was under the oar-lock?" I said. "It was a new two dollar bill."

"Well, it wasn't there, anyway," he said.

Then for a minute we both stood there and neither one of us said anything. I know what I was thinking, but I didn't want to say it. I guess Westy was thinking the same thing, too. We both sat down beside the road and after a couple of minutes, he said, "Maybe a tramp took it, hey?"

"Jerry wouldn't let anyone on the grounds," I said. Jerry's our gardener.

"And besides Don wouldn't, either." He's our dog--he's a collie. "Well, it isn't there, anyway,"

Westy said; "I lifted the oar-lock and felt underneath and I laid it down again, right where it was--on a book or something. When I flashed the light it wasn't there. Come on, we'll be late. I'd let you have two bucks if I had that much extra, but I've only got two myself. You can chip in yours to-morrow, it'll be all right."

I got up and I felt awful funny.