Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp Part 27

He said, "What's the matter with you lately?"

"Nothing much," I told him.

"You don't hang out with the fellows at all," he said; "we're having a lot of thrilling adventures."

"Thrilling, hey?" I said; and I just had to laugh, because it was the same old Pee-wee with his hair's-breadth escapes and thrilling adventures, and all that stuff.

"Well," I said, "you want to be careful; it's pretty dangerous business stalking hop-toads."

"I came all the way from Catskill scout pace," he said.

I said, "Bully for you."

"I did it in fifty-two minutes," he said; "scout pace is my middle name. Are you worrying about anything?"

"I'm worrying because I don't get a letter, kid," I said; "if it doesn't come to-morrow--"

"Don't you worry," he said; "it'll come to-morrow. I'll fix it for you."

"You're one bully little fixer," I said (because he was always talking about fixing things), "but if Uncle Sam doesn't bring it, _you_ can't.

But, anyway, you and I are going to have a good hike, you little raving Raven," I said; "just as soon as we can. I know I haven't seen much of you, Pee-wee, but it isn't because I don't like you."

He just said, "_Hsh_" and went off on tiptoe through the woods, stalking his hop-toad. He's a mighty nice little fellow, Pee-wee is.

And he's a bully little scout. Scout pace and good turns, those are his specialties. He just stalks hop-toads on the side.

Late that night Mr. Ellsworth came back. The bus brought him up from Catskill. I didn't see him, but early in the morning on my way over to wait for the mail, I met Vic Norris and Hunt Ward of the Elks.

Vic Norris said, "This'll be the end of Camp McCord. Mr. E. is going to take Skinny to Bridgeboro this morning."

"Oh, is that so?" I said; "Skinny is with the Gold Dust Twins, and they have nothing to do with Temple Camp."

"Skinny is in Mr. Ellsworth's care," Hunt Ward said.

"Pretty soon he'll be in the Reformatory's care," Vic blurted out.

"Yes," I said, "and all because you had his head all turned with swimming, before he's even pa.s.sed his second cla.s.s tests. You were glad enough to use him. You were glad enough to see his poor little skinny legs kicking in the water, just so as you could get something out of it. Now you throw him down. Those Gold Dust Twins are better scouts than you are--they are. You're not fit to stay in the same camp with Bert Winton; you're in my own troop, but I tell you that. You leave Mr.

Ellsworth out of it."

"Who says so?" Vic shouted.

"I say so," I told him. "You don't hear Mr. Ellsworth around saying mean things about Skinny, do you? You leave Mr. Ellsworth out of it It's none of your business what he does. Even if Skinny does go back, the least you can do is keep still about it. You don't hear those tigers around talking, do you? I guess not. Or my patrol either. You keep your mouths shut about Skinny!"

Then I went over to Administration Shack to wait for the mail to be sorted. The reason I didn't say more to Vic and Hunt was just because I was getting discouraged, and in my heart I thought maybe Skinny would have to go. I knew that Camp McCord was no use if Mr. Ellsworth said he must go back.

I was glad I didn't say any more, because anyway, there was no letter there.

CHAPTER x.x.xIX

TELLS ABOUT HOW CAMP MC CORD DIDN'T STRIKE ITS COLORS

There were a lot of us hanging around Administration Shack, and I heard a couple of fellows say that Mr. Ellsworth was going down in the bus to catch the eleven-ten train. They said he was going to stop at Camp McCord for Skinny. "He's likely to get a home-made doughnut thrown at his head," one of them said, and they all laughed. I just couldn't listen to them.

After the mail was distributed and I saw there wasn't anything for me, I just went in and said to Slaty, I said, "Are you _sure_ there isn't anything? Would you mind looking again?" I knew it wasn't any use and I guess he did too, but anyway, he looked and said no.

Then I started back to Silver Fox Cabin. I guess I never felt worse than I did then. First I thought I'd just go and beg Mr. Ellsworth not to take Skinny away from Camp McCord, anyway, even if he couldn't have the cross. I was hanging my head and just kind of wandering along and wondering what I'd say to Bert and the twins. I could just sort of see that new flag with Camp McCord on it, and I could hear Bert saying, "Camp McCord doesn't strike its colors as easily as all that." Anyway, what more could I do. I knew Mr. Ellsworth would be nice to me, but that he wouldn't do anything just because _I_ wanted him to. I said to myself, "It's all up; n.o.body can do anything now. Skinny was born unlucky--poor little kid--"

All of a sudden I stumbled plunk into Pee-wee as he came pell-mell around the corner of the big pavilion.

"What in--" I began.

"_I've got it for you! I've got it for you!_" he shouted; "forty-nine minutes, scout pace! _I beat my record!_ I thought maybe it wouldn't come in the reg--in the reg--in the reg--" He was so out of breath he couldn't talk.

"There's a sec--there's a sec--there's a second train; here--"

And then he handed me a letter.

"There--there are--two," he said; "this--one's--for you."

My hand trembled so I could hardly open the envelope. And, honest, I could hardly speak to him. I just blurted out, "Pee-wee, you're the bulliest little scout in this camp--you and your scout pacing! You're just the best little scout that ever was. Give me your hand, you bully little raving Raven. Talk about good turns! Oh, Pee-wee, you're just--"

Honest, I couldn't finish. And I stood there with my eyes all sort of wet, and watched him start up again scout pace.

"See you later," he called back; "I want to make Administration Shack in fifty minutes."

That was him all over.

This was the letter and, oh, boy, you bet I'll always keep it, because that was my lucky day. Even since then, Wednesday has been my lucky day. When I get a good stalking snapshot it's always on a Wednesday.

Skeezeks, old Pal:

Yours received. Have sent letter to your superior officer or whatever you call him. Will be up after my two hundred buckarinos next week.

Could you put me up for a couple of nights? I'll show you how to roast potatoes French style, and we'll have a hike.

Everything O.K., so don't worry. You're a little brick.

In a hurry,

H.D.

Believe me, I read that letter about seven times, But even then I wouldn't go to see Mr. Ellsworth, because I wanted to wait till the other letter was sent over to him from the shack. I guess I waited about half an hour, because I wanted to give him a chance to read his seven times too. Then I went to his tent where I knew he'd be getting ready to start away.

I just said kind of sober like, "Can I take your grip over to the bus for you, Mr. Ellsworth?"

Oh, boy, you ought to have seen him.