Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp Part 2

"Righto," he said, "and I thought I'd be back that same night and down to Dix again by morning. See? But instead of that, here I am and blamed near a week gone by and Uncle Sam on the hunt for me. A nice pickle I'm in. What do you say?"

"Gee, I wouldn't want to be you," I said; "anyway, I'm sorry for you.

But I don't see why you didn't go back like you said." Then he went over to the railing and looked all around in a hurry.

"I guess they won't be back for an hour yet," I told him; "they went to the movies."

So he came back and sat down beside me again and began talking very excited, as if I was kind of a friend of his, the way he talked. You know what I mean. And, cracky, any fellow would be glad to be a friend of his, that's sure, even if he _was_ kind of reckless and--you know.

He said, "I had so many adventures, old top, that I couldn't tell 'em to you. Jakey and I have Robinson Crusoe tearing his hair from jealousy. Kiddo, this last week has been a whole sea story; in itself-- just one hair's-breadth escape after another. Ever read _Treasure Island?_"

"_Did I!_" I said.

Then he said, "Well _Treasure Island_ is like a church social compared to what I've been through. Some day I'm going to tell you about it."

I said, "I wish you'd tell me now."

"Some night around the camp-fire I'll tell you," he said. "We were fis.h.i.+ng off Sea Gate and the fish just stood on line waiting for a chance to bite. We sold three boatfuls in the one day and whacked up about seventy dollars--what do you think of that? Then we chugged around into Coney for gas and on the way back we got mussed up with the tide and were carried out to sea--banged around for three days, bailing and trying to fry fish on the m.u.f.fler. On the fourth day we were picked up by a fis.h.i.+ng schooner about fifty miles off Rockaway and towed in. I said to Jakey, I'm Mike Corby, remember that, and if you give your right name I'll kill you--you've got to protect me,' I said, 'because I'm in bad.' You see how it was, kiddo? I was three days overdue at camp and didn't even have my uniform. I was so tired bailing and standing lookout that when they set us down on the wharf at Rockaway, I could have slept standing on my head. And I've gone without sleep fifty hours at a stretch on the West Front in France--would you believe it?"

"Sure, I believe it," I told him.

"I'll tell you the whole business some day when you and I are on the hike."

I said, "Cracky, you can bet I'd like to go on a hike with you."

"That's what we will," he said, "and we'll swap adventures."

I told him I didn't have any good ones like he had to swap, but anyway, I was glad he got home all right.

"_All right!_" he said, "you mean all _wrong_. Maybe you saw the accounts in the papers of the two fishermen who were picked up after a _harrowing experience_--Mike Corby and Dan McCann. That was us. I left Jakey down at Rockaway to wait for his engine to be fixed and beat it out to Jersey. _No house-boat_! Was I up in the air? Didn't even dare to go up to the house and ask about it. That rotten little newspaper in Bridgeboro had a big headliner about me disappearing--'_never seen after leaving Camp Dix; whereabouts a mystery_'--that's what it said, '_son of Professor Donnelle_.' What'd you think of that?"

I told him I was mighty sorry for him, and I was, too.

Then he said how he went to New York in those old rags, and tried not to see anybody he knew and even he hid his face when he saw Mr. Cooper on the train. And then he telephoned out to Bridgeboro and Little Valley and made believe he was somebody else, and said he heard the houseboat was for sale and in that way he found out about his father loaning it to our troop, and how we were probably anch.o.r.ed near St.

George at Staten Island. Oh, boy, didn't he hurry up to get there, because he was afraid we might be gone.

So then he waited till night and he was just wondering whether it would be safe to wait till we were all asleep and then sneak onto the boat, when all of a sudden he saw the fellows coming ash.o.r.e and he got near and listened and he heard them speak about going to the movies, and he heard one fellow say something about how Roy would be sorry he didn't come. And do you want to know what he told me? This is just what he said; he said, "When I heard your name was Roy, I knew you'd be all right--see? Because look at Rob Roy," he said; "wasn't he a bully hero and a good scout and a fellow you could trust with a secret--wasn't he?" That's just what he said. "You take a fellow named Roy," he said, "and you'll always find him true and loyal." He said there was a fellow named Roy on the West Front and he gave up his life before he'd tell on a comrade.

Then he said, "You see how it is with me, Skeezeks, I'm in a peck of trouble and I've got to get those army duds on and toddle back to camp as soon as I can get there and face the music. I've got to make an excuse--I've got to get that blamed uniform pressed somehow--I suppose it's creased from the dampness in that locker. I've got to straighten matters out if I can. I just managed to save my life, and by heck, I'll be lucky if I can just save my honor and that's the plain truth."

"So you see I've got a lot to do," he said, "and you've got just the one thing to do, and that's a cinch. It's to keep your mouth shut--see?

Suppose the old gent knew about this. Suppose my sister knew I was within a quarter of a mile of the house and didn't go to see them. You know what girls are."

I told him, "Sure, because I've got two sisters. And I bet they'd like you, too. I bet they'd say you were good looking." Then he began to laugh and he said, "Well, I bet I'd like them too, if they're anything like you. So now will you keep your mouth shut? Ever hear of the scouts' oath? The Indian scouts' oath, I mean--loyalty for better or worser? Don't say I was here. Don't say you know anything about me.

Keep your mouth shut. If my name should be mentioned, keep still. You don't know anything. n.o.body was here, see?"

I said, "Suppose Mr. Ellsworth or somebody should ask me?"

"Who's going to ask you?" he said; "you say nothing and they'll say nothing. I fought for my country, kiddo, and I've got two wounds. You don't want to spoil it all for me now, do you?"

I said, "I bet you're brave, anyhow."

"I'd rather face two German divisions than what I've got to face to-morrow," he said; "but if I know it's all right at this end, I won't worry. Are you straight?"

"I wouldn't tell," I told him; "cracky, why should _I_ tell? And I can see you've got a lot of trouble and you're not exactly all to blame, anyway. Only I hope I'll see you again sometime because, anyway, whatever you did I kind of like you. It's one of our laws that a fellow has to be loyal. Only sometime will you tell me some of the things you did--I mean your adventures?"

"I'll tell you all about the jungles and the man-eating apes down in Central America," he said.

So then he went into the cabin in a big hurry and he took the key out of his pocket and he opened the locker and took out his uniform. It was all wrinkled and damp, but anyway, he looked fine in it, you can bet.

After he got it all on and fixed right, he stuffed his old clothes into the place and locked it up again. I bet any girl would say he looked fine, that's one thing sure.

Just before he climbed over the railing he put his hand in his pocket and took out some change and he was in such a hurry that he dropped some of it and it went all over the deck. I started to pick it up for him, but he only said, "Never mind, let it go, you can have all you find, and here's a quarter to get a couple of sodas."

I said, "We don't take anything for a service, scouts don't."

"Well, you can have a soda on me, can't you?" he said, trying to make me take the quarter.

"If you want me to be loyal to you, I have to be loyal if I make a promise, don't I?" I said.

He said, "What promise?"

And I said, "I can't take anything for a service."

Then he hit me a rap on the shoulder and laughed and he punched me in the chest, not hard, only kind of as if to show me that he liked me.

Then he said, "Bully for you, kiddo, you're one little trump." Then, all of a sudden he was gone.

Sometimes you can't tell just why you like a fellow, but, anyway, I liked him just the same.

CHAPTER IV

TELLS ABOUT THE PAPER I FOUND

One thing, I bet it was Pee-wee Harris that the lieutenant heard talking, while he was hiding on sh.o.r.e. Anyway, it was Pee-wee that I heard first when they were on their way back--that's sure. You know how plain you can hear voices on the water. And believe me, before those fellows were half way out I knew all about the bandit of Red Hallow.

That was the fellow in the movies, I suppose, and he must have been some bandit, because he saved a school teacher from about twenty other bandits, and shot them all. I guess everybody was shooting pistols at everybody else, like they mostly do in the movies. Pee-wee was sticking up for the poor school teacher, and it made me laugh because he hasn't got much use for school teachers on account of they're always keeping him in for talking. Anyway, what fun is there in everybody shooting pistols at each other. Me for stalking, that's what _I_ say.

When Mr. Ellsworth came on board he said, "Well, Roy, alone in your glory, eh?" I didn't say anything and I hoped he wouldn't ask me any questions, because anyway, I wasn't going to lie, that's one sure thing. I asked him how the fellows liked the movies and he said, everybody got shot so they were all satisfied. He was just joking. He asked the fellows if they'd like to meet a lot of bandits in real life, and they said, "_Good night_, no." And then he said it was funny how they liked to meet them in the movies and all the fellows had to admit it was crazy. You wouldn't catch Mr. Ellsworth stopping us from going to the movies, but he always makes us feel silly afterward.

Pretty soon Grove Bronson, who is one of the Raving Ravens, came up to me and gave me a newspaper with a whole lot of ears of corn in it, and said we were going to have it for Sunday dinner.

Pee-wee said, "They're dandy big ears all right, and here's some cans of tongue."

"Good night," I told him, "I thought we had tongue enough with you here." Oh, you ought to have seen little Skinny McCord laugh. His face was all thin on account of his not being very strong and he never had much food until he got in with us, either. But it was fun to see him laugh whenever we got back at Pee-wee.

"There's some heads of cabbage, too," he said; "Doc's got them."

"Heads and ears and tongues," I said; "you ought to have brought some potatoes, so we'd have eyes." He thinks I'm funny, but I just say those things to make him laugh, so as he'll feel good.