TRACKING THE ROBBERS
WE didn't have any idea who took our things and there didn't seem to be any way of finding out. The ground in the woods was carpeted with pine needles, which left no trace of footprints.
We thought that maybe those girls that we had chased had taken our dinner to get even, and it might have been the Summer Street boys, or maybe the Gingham Ground Gang.
We scattered, like Skinny told us, and gradually worked out from the center, crawling on our hands and knees, and watching every inch of the ground and the bushes.
We didn't get any trace at all until I found a potato. Then Skinny, who was a little ahead of me and at one side, gave a groan and yelled:
"Here's my wishbone. They've eaten all my fried chicken."
It always makes Skinny mad to have somebody eat his fried chicken.
Farther on we found pieces of eggshell and then more, as if somebody had peeled an egg while walking and thrown the shells on the ground.
We knew then that there was no chance of getting our dinners back, but we followed the trail, just the same.
After a time we came to the queerest looking tracks, where somebody had stepped on a soft piece of ground. Benny found them first.
"The spoor!" he yelled. "The spoor! I've found the spoor."
"Well, don't tell the whole town about it," said Skinny. "Keep quiet and we'll surround 'em."
"But the chicken and eggs are gone," he added, after a moment. "I was going to give you some of that chicken, Bill."
We stopped and had a long look at the tracks. There were four footprints and a hole, which looked as if it had been made with a stick, or cane. Three of the prints were like those which any man would make in walking and one was the printof a bare foot, only it had a queer look that we couldn't understand.
"We've got 'em," whispered Skinny. "We'll know that footprint again anywhere we find it. Forward, and mum's the word!"
Twice after that we found the same queer footprint; once in the dust of a road that runs along the south side of Plunkett's woods, and again on the edge of a brook which comes down from the mountain somewhere.
Then we lost the trail and didn't know where to go. Just because we didn't know what else to do, we followed the brook up, until we came to a gully out of sight from the road.
Skinny was ahead, aiming with his stick and saying what he would do if he should catch the fellow that stole his chicken. All of a sudden we saw him drop behind a bush and lie still. We dropped, too. We didn't know what for, but I've noticed that it is 'most always a good thing to drop first and find out why afterward. Then we crawled slowly up to him to see what had happened.
There, sitting on the ground in a grassy ravine,near the brook, were two men, and they were eating what remained of our lunch. One of them had his left shoe off and his foot done up in a bandage. That was what had made the track look so queer.
Now that we had caught them we didn't know what to do with them, for they were too big for us to tackle.
"I believe we could get away with the lame one," whispered Skinny, "only they have about eaten it all up; so what's the use? Besides, the other one looks as big as a house."
"If we only had a rope, Skinny," said Benny, "you could creep up behind and lasso them, the same as you did the robber out near Starved Rock."
"Bet your life I could," he replied, "but we haven't got one. Fellers, don't you ever go out again without a rope. You can't ever tell when you will need it."
"Great snakes!" said Bill, thinking of the chicken Skinny had been going to give him. "I'm starving to death. Let's heave some rocks at 'em, anyhow, and then run."
He picked up a big stone as he spoke and was going to throw it, when Hank caught his arm.
"Wait," said he. "I know a trick worth two of that. I'm going to shoot 'em."
"Shoot them?" I gasped in surprise. "What with?"
"With my camera. You fellows stay here out of sight and caw like a crow if they make any move before I am ready for them. If I can only get behind that clump of bushes back of them without their seeing me, I'll take their picture."
"Aw, cut it out," said Bill.
But Hank was gone, and after a little we could see him running through a field out of sight of the men, so as to come into the ravine from the other end. Pretty soon we saw him crawling in, creeping from bush to bush, in sight only for a second at a time.
There was not a sound except the voices of the men, who were talking about something, and the ground might have opened and swallowed Hank for all we could see of him.
We waited a long time and began to get nervous,not knowing what had happened, and I saw Bill feeling around for another stone.
Then all of a sudden Hank stood up above the bushes he had told us about. He looked toward where he knew we were hiding and put one finger to his lips. Then he tossed a stone toward the men and dropped down out of sight again before it could fall.
"Great snakes!" whispered Bill. "If he's goin' to throw, why don't he do it, and not give a baby toss like that?"
Skinny held up one hand warningly as the pebble fell into the brook right back of the men, making a little splash and gurgle, as if a frog, or maybe a trout, had leaped out after a fly.
When they heard it both men jumped up and stood there in the sunshine, looking toward the sound. We couldn't see Hank, but knew that he was somewhere in the bushes taking their picture.
You almost could have heard our hearts beat for a minute, not knowing what would happen. Then the men sat down again and went on talking.
We waited five minutes to give Hank a chanceto get away, and crawled back the way we had come. When we reached the road we heard a crow cawing in the woods and knew that he was safe.
"You answer, Benny," said Skinny. "You do it best."
He gave three caws so real that I almost thought it was a sure enough crow. Hank joined us and we hurried down the road toward home, hoping that the dinner would not be all eaten up.
"Did you get the picture?" I asked.
He nodded. "I think so, but I can't be sure until it has been developed. I had a splendid chance. They stood just right and there was a fine opening through the bushes."
"It took you a long time," grumbled Bill. "I could have hit them with a rock easy."
"I was trying to hear what they were saying. I couldn't hear very well, but I think they are robbers or something."
"You bet they are robbers," said Skinny. "Didn't they steal my fried chicken?"
We didn't think much more about the men because we had important work on hand. The firstthing we had to do was to eat dinner. That is always important, especially when your mother knows how to cook beefsteak that makes you crazy just to smell. After that came a ball game. Our nine, the "Invincibles," played a picked nine from Summer Street. We beat, 25 to 19.
I didn't see any of the boys again until in church, Sunday morning. When I went in Bill Wilson was there, looking so dressed up that I hardly knew him.
He saw me and motioned for me to come into his pew, but Ma wouldn't let me do it. Bill had something on his mind. It was easy to tell that. He looked excited, and every time I turned around he went through with all sorts of motions with his mouth, trying to make me understand what he wanted to say.
It bothered me. Every time the minister twisted up his face, trying to make us understand how important it was what he was saying, I'd think of Bill's mouth going back of me. I couldn't help it.
When at last we went into Sunday school he told me.
"Great snakes, Pedro!" said he, grabbing me by one arm. "Haven't you heard about it?"
"How can I tell whether I have or not, when I don't know what it is?" I told him.
"They robbed Green's store last night; stole him blind."
"Who did?"
"The guys that we saw yesterday. Our robbers."
When Bill told me that you could have knocked me down with a feather. It made me almost as excited as he was. He didn't have time to say any more because teacher made him sit at the end of the line away from me so that he wouldn't whisper so much.
But after Sunday school was over he told me all about it. Burglars had broken into Green's store during the night. They blew open the safe and took all the money, nearly one hundred dollars, and they carried off a lot of knives and revolvers. There is an alley back of the store. They broke into the basement from there and then made their way upstairs.
"How do you know that it was our robbers who did it?" I asked.
Bill drew himself up and swelled out his chest, just like Skinny does sometimes.
"I'm a Boy Scout, ain't I?" he said. "A corporal, too."
"You are only a Tenderfoot," I told him.
That was true. You have to be a Tenderfoot before you can get to be a real Scout.
"It's the same thing," he said, winking one eye. "One of the robbers has a tender foot, anyhow."
"Look here, Bill," I told him. "You are getting to be worse than Skinny. What are you talking about?"
"Pedro," he said, "you'll never make a Scout. You're a good bandit and a good secretary, but this Scout business is too much for you. I saw their tracks; that's what."
"In the alley?"
He nodded. "Come on and I'll show you."
We hurried down to Center Street and turned into the alley back of the stores. The ground inthe alley was hard and didn't show any tracks except wagon ruts.
Bill looked up and down the alley to make sure that nobody was watching; then tiptoed over to one side, and lifted up a big piece of wrapping paper, which lay there as if it had been blown out of the store. Under the paper there was the same kind of footprint which we had followed from Plunkett's woods the day before.
There was no doubt about it. The man with a bandaged foot must have been in the alley back of the store which had been robbed.
Bill was the proudest fellow you ever saw over that footprint. When I had finished looking at it he put the paper back again and we went out into the street.
"What do you think of that?" said he. "I guess Skinny ain't the whole thing—on Sundays."
"Does the marshal know?"
"I haven't told a soul except you, Pedro. I am saving it for the Band—I mean the patrol. This is our chance. What's the good of bein' a Scout if you don't do any scoutin'?"
"Anyhow, I think we ought to tell the marshal about this," I said. "Those robbers are not going to wait for the Scouts to get busy. They probably jumped a freight last night and are in New York by this time. But maybe the marshal could do something."
Bill was bound to tell the other Scouts about it first. So after dinner we got the boys together and all went over and took a look at the footprint.
Skinny was even more excited than Bill was.
"We are hot on the trail, fellers," said he. "The thing to do is to surround them. We ought to have captured them yesterday. Bet your life we'll take a rope next time."
But when Pa found us talking it over on our woodpile, and we told him about it, he said for us to go to the marshal's at once, and if we didn't he would.
It being Sunday, we went to the marshal's house and found him sitting on the front porch dressed in his best clothes. He was some surprised when he saw the eight of us walk into his yard. It made us wish that we had uniforms on.
"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" said he. "Is this a committee of distinguished citizens to ask me to run for mayor or something?"
Bill was bursting with the news, but Skinny was the first to speak.
"We want you to run for those burglars," he said, "and we can tell you who they are."
When he heard that the marshal began to get interested.
"Well, who were they? Maybe," he went on, smiling at us, "you youngsters have come to give yourselves up."
"We didn't do it," put in Bill. "We wouldn't do such a thing, but we know who did. We don't know his name, but we know his track. We could have caught him yesterday if we'd wanted to. I wish we had now."
Then we told him about losing our dinners and following the robbers through Plunkett's woods, and about the queer looking track made by the bandaged foot.
"I'd know that footprint in China," said Bill,"and I found one just like it in the alley back of Green's store. The man with the lame foot made it. I 'most know he did."
"Say, William, you are a regular sleuth," said the marshal. "I have a notion to put you on the force."
But he didn't guy us any more after that. He put on his coat and walked downtown with us.
After he had looked at the footprint he covered it up again so that nobody would step on it.
"That's the one all right," Hank told him. "There were two of them. I heard them say something about robbing, when I was taking their pictures."
"Taking their pictures! They don't go around breaking into stores with an official photographer along, do they?"
"I don't know what they go around with," Hank said, "but I crept up close behind them and lay back of a bush where I could hear them talking, although I couldn't understand much of what they said. I thought it would be fun to take their pictures when they didn't know anything about it."
"They stood up when Hank threw a stone and looked right at the camera, only they didn't know it was there," Benny explained.
"Great Scott, boy! Do you mean to tell me that you took a photograph of the rascals?"
"I snapped them all right," Hank told him, "but I won't know whether I got a good picture or not until I develop the roll. I haven't done it yet."
"Well, you develop it right away, or, better still, get your camera and we'll have Marsh, the photographer, do it and make sure of things. He'll do it, if it is Sunday."
Hank hung back. "Can't you wait a while?" he asked. "I've got five shots left in the camera and don't want to waste them. They cost money."
The marshal looked disgusted. "Waste them! How much did they cost?"
"Twenty-five cents a roll; six in a roll."
The marshal pulled a quarter out of his pocket and handed it to him.
"You'll be a rich man some day," said he. "Now that roll of films belongs to me and that picture is going to be developed before you are anhour older. Can you do the job or shall I look up Marsh?"
"I can do it all right, if there is any picture to develop."
"Very well, go ahead with it and bring it down to my office just as soon as you can. And I'll tell you further, young fellow, if we catch those burglars through your help, you'll get part of the reward."
Hank looked at us a moment with his eyes shining. Then he drew himself up.
"I'm a Scout," said he, "and Scouts are not looking for rewards. 'A Scout's duty is to be useful and to help others.' The book says so."
It made us all feel proud to have Hank say that. The marshal gave a surprised whistle.
"If that is the case," said he, laughing, "give me back my quarter."
But Hank wouldn't do that, although Skinny nudged him. I don't suppose you can learn to be a Scout all at once.
"DANGER—COME"
IT was anxious work, standing around while Hank ran the film from his camera through some kind of machine which he had, to bring out the picture. After what seemed like a long time he took it out and looked through it toward the light.
"Hurrah!" he yelled. "We've got 'em."
We all crowded around to look, and sure enough at one end of the film we could see as plain as day two men standing up and looking toward us. And there was the brook, too, and the ravine, so real that we almost could hear the water pouring over the stones, which we think is the sweetest music in the whole world. Away back in the picture was the bush, behind which we boys were hiding when Hank took it. Only you couldn't see us at all, for we had been careful to keep out of sight.
It is wonderful, isn't it? I don't know how it is done and I don't believe that anybody else knows, but I know that it is so because I saw it with my own eyes.
Hank washed the film, and after it was dry put it in a frame with some paper which he had, and held it up to the gas jet. In a few seconds the picture showed up on the paper fine, just like our writing does when we do it in invisible ink and hold it up to a blaze.
We could tell who it was, all right. The big one had a scowl on his face, as if he had put it there when Hank tossed the stone and hadn't had time to smooth it out again.
"This picture is for the marshal," Hank told us. "Now I'll print another for the patrol. We'll let them soak and wash a while, and then dry them out. It'll take quite a long time, but we've got 'em all right."
When we finally went down to the marshal's it was evening. He was tickled when he saw the picture. It made Skinny feel real chesty and we all of us were proud.
"I tell you, Mr. Michael," said he, "the Band's the stuff. I mean the patrol is. They don't get away from us very often. I only wish we'd had a rope with us that time."
"You boys certainly did the trick," said the marshal, examining the picture. "I don't know those men myself, but I know where they will know them, and that is the next best thing. That is, if they are old crooks, as I suspect they are."
"Where's that?" asked Skinny.
"At police headquarters in New York. They have a rogues' gallery there that would surprise you. It contains the pictures and records of nearly every crook in the country. If these men are among them they'll pretty near know where to put their hands on them. I'll mail this down to-night. I've telegraphed already. Come around to-morrow and I'll tell you if I hear anything."
He met us with a broad grin the next afternoon and showed us a telegram. This is what it said, for I put it down. Skinny thought it ought to be in the minutes of the meeting.
"Men well-known crooks. Are under arrest. Got the goods and most of the money."
"More than ten words are in that telegram," said Hank, counting them.
"There you go again," laughed the marshal. "I'll have to call the New York chief down for being so careless. Anyhow, your robbers will go to the penitentiary as sure as preaching."
"I don't know about it," Benny told us afterward, when we were talking it over. "I'm 'most sorry that we did it. I shall always be thinking that if it hadn't been for us those men wouldn't be locked up away from birds and grass and trees. Maybe they didn't have such good folks as we've got. You know that guy out in Illinois didn't have."
But after we saw Pa we felt better about it.
"I'm glad you feel that way," said he. "Still you did the right thing after you found out about the robbery. I wouldn't advise you, however, to go around taking photographs of burglars. You might get into trouble another time. It surely isan awful thing to be in state's prison, but being away from the trees and grass is not the worst thing about it. The worst thing is being so bad that you have to be locked up in order to make other people safe. It is a terrible thing to be a criminal, whether you are in prison or not."
He was quiet for a minute; then went on:
"I can't think of a worse prison for a human soul than a human body that does mean things, lies and steals or is vile in any way."
A few days later when Skinny and I went to the post-office together the postmaster handed him a letter.
"I say," said he, "you have been promoted, haven't you?"
On the envelope was written, "Captain Gabriel Miller, Patrol Leader, Raven Patrol, Boy Scouts of America."
It made us both excited.
"It's for the whole patrol," said Skinny, trying to look through it. "I don't think I ought to open it until we are all together, and I hardly can wait."
He rushed to the door as he spoke and whistled through his teeth, for he saw Bill and Hank passing on the other side of the street, going to my house.
"I could have cawed," he explained when they had come across, "but I didn't think that I ought to when folks were looking."
We went over to Benny's and found him piling wood and glad enough to quit.
"Never mind about the other boys," I told them. "They will be along pretty soon. Whatever it is, we'll want to read it twice, anyhow."
Skinny opened the letter and looked at the writing.
"Jee-rusalem, fellers!" he shouted. Then he commenced to caw like some crow that was crazy with the heat.
Bill cawed, too, but he didn't know what for. Then he tried to snatch the letter out of Skinny's hand.
"Aw, cut it out, can't you?" said he, when Skinny dodged out of the way. "Read it."
"I am readin' it," said Skinny. "It's great."
"Well, read it out loud."
Then Skinny started to read, and this is what the letter said, only it doesn't tell how Skinny's eyes shone, nor how he stopped every few lines to punch the enemy.
"To the Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill:"I want to thank every boy in Raven Patrol, and especially Henry Bates, for the recovery of my property. But for you I should never have seen it again and the burglars would still be at large. I offered a reward for the capture of the thieves and it rightfully belongs to you, but the marshal has told me that, being Boy Scouts, you do not want to be rewarded for good deeds. What I wish to say is this: I like the Boy Scout idea and want to help it along. Not as a reward but just because I like boys, will you let me buy uniforms for your patrol?"Sincerely your friend,"Robert Green."
"I want to thank every boy in Raven Patrol, and especially Henry Bates, for the recovery of my property. But for you I should never have seen it again and the burglars would still be at large. I offered a reward for the capture of the thieves and it rightfully belongs to you, but the marshal has told me that, being Boy Scouts, you do not want to be rewarded for good deeds. What I wish to say is this: I like the Boy Scout idea and want to help it along. Not as a reward but just because I like boys, will you let me buy uniforms for your patrol?
"Sincerely your friend,"Robert Green."
That is how we happen to have such fine uniforms that make folks turn around and look every time we pass.
On the day we first wore the uniforms we were made real Scouts; not First class ones but Second class. You see, there are three kinds. First you have to be a Tenderfoot. That doesn't mean that your feet are tender, but that you are new to the business. To get to be a Second Class Scout, you have to do all kinds of stunts and you have to be a Tenderfoot at least a month.
We knew how to build fires and cook things out in the woods and things like that, which Scouts have to do, and the way we tracked the burglars showed that we knew something about that.
The hardest things we had to do were to learn the Morse alphabet of dots and dashes for signaling and to learn what to do when folks get hurt, how to put on bandages and things like that and how to bring folks back to life when they are nearly drowned. We learned them all right, and it is a good thing we did.
Signaling was the most fun of all. We could do it with flags like they do in the army; by waving our arms like a semaphore, and by smoke from fires like the Indians do. We also could spell outthings with smoke in the Morse alphabet, which was something the Indians couldn't do, by making the smoke go up in puffs like dots and dashes.
Part of us would go up on Bob's Hill and part on the hill opposite, beyond the Basin where we go swimming, build fires, and signal to each other. It was hard at first, but after a while we could spell out 'most anything and understand some of it.
It came in handy, too, because one afternoon, after we had been playing in our yard, we decided to practise our signaling. Just after all the boys had started for the east hill, except Skinny and me, who were going up on Bob's Hill, Ma came out and wanted to know where the other boys were.
"It is too bad that they have gone," said she. "I was going to ask them to stay to supper."
"Maybe they'll come back," said Skinny, winking at me.
"We are not going to have much, but I thought you boys would enjoy eating together and we should like it, too. We do not often have the honor of sitting down to the table with young gentlemen who have uniforms on."
"We'll stay," said Skinny, "if you will let us do something to help. According to Scout law, a Scout must try his best to do somebody a good turn every day. I haven't done it now for 'most two days."
"If that is the case," Ma told him, "my woodbox seems to be getting empty."
That is the greatest woodbox I ever saw for getting empty. We filled it so full that the wood fell off all over the floor; then started for the hill.
"Now is our chance," said Skinny. "We've just got to make them understand this time. We never have had anything much to tell the boys before, but this is important."
We climbed to the very top of Bob's Hill and soon had a fire going. When it was well started we threw on some green stuff that made a big smoke. Pretty soon we saw smoke going up across the valley and knew that the other boys were ready.
"They are there," I said. "Now we'll tell them."
"Wait," said Skinny. "First let's give the danger signal. That'll fetch 'em."
"But there ain't any danger," I told him. "What's the use of lying, even with smoke?"
"You bet there's danger," said he. "There's danger of losing your mother's supper, ain't there?"
So I gave him one end of a wet blanket which I was carrying, and I grabbed hold of the other end. We covered the fire with it, stopping all of the smoke; then took it off and let a big puff go up; then covered it again and sent up a little puff, and kept doing that until I was sure the boys would be most crazy, for that sign means danger.
After we had done it a while, we spelled out the word "come." We did that by using the blanket to make a short puff of smoke for a dot and a long puff for a dash, like this:
... C .. O — M . E
We waited and spelled it out twice more to make sure, and then went down the hill to the house.
"Shall I set the table for the others?" Ma asked, when she saw us coming.
"They will be here in a few minutes," said Skinny, looking at his watch.
We were not sure of it, but we hoped they would and, as Skinny said, it wouldn't do any hurt to get the table ready.
We were beginning to be afraid that they had not understood and were not coming, when we heard a faint cawing, a long way off somewhere. It seemed from beyond Summer Street.
Skinny answered, while I ran into the house to tell the folks that it was all right. Then we went out in front and waited.
The first we saw of them was when Bill Wilson turned into Park Street in a cloud of dust and came tearing up the middle of the road on a jump. The other boys were close behind, running to beat the band, and every mother's son of them was carrying a big club.
They didn't even yell when they saw us, they were so nearly winded, but Bill, being corporal, ran up to Skinny, gave the Scout salute, and then whirled his club around his head three times.
It was great to see them come up that way, everyScout whirling his club and all out of breath. Skinny's eyes shone like stars, he was so proud, and I saw Ma looking out of a window, surprised some, I guess.
"Show 'em to us!" yelled Bill, as soon as he could speak. "We'll eat 'em up."
"You'll get all the eating you want in about five minutes," Skinny told him.
"Where are they?" yelled Bill again, while the other boys marched up and stood in a row, each with his club in the air.
"You are crazy," said Skinny. "Where's who?"
"The Gingham Ground Gang. Didn't you tell us the Gang was after you and for us to come quick?"
"Not much. I said supper was ready and that if you didn't get a move on yourselves you would lose out."
"Ain't there going to be a fight?"
Just then Ma came out and it was a good thing she did, because there might have been a fight, after all.
"Boys," said she, smiling at us, "you are all invited to stay to supper, and you will just about have time to wash up and cool off a little. We are having supper early to-night. I was so disappointed when I found out that you had gone that your patrol leader, Captain Miller, told me that he would signal to you and that Corporal Wilson would get you here on time if he had to run his legs off. I don't exactly see how he did it but you are here, that is certain. I've let your folks know, so you can stay just as well as not, unless you don't like my cooking."
When she said that the boys set up a shout, for they knew all about Ma's cooking.
"I wish you would tell me how you do it," she added, turning back as she was going into the house. "If your secretary would come like that when I call him, I should be the proudest woman in the village."
A CAMPFIRE ON BOB'S HILL
"JEE-RUSALEM, fellers," said Skinny a few days later, "we're going to have a campfire to-night on Bob's Hill. Mr. Norton, the Scoutmaster, is going to be there, and he says for us not to eat too much supper because there will be something doing along about eight o'clock. It will beat the Fourth of July."
We hardly could wait for evening to come. The folks thought that I must be sick because I didn't want much supper, until I told them about the campfire.
"You'd better eat a bowl of bread and milk, anyhow," said Ma. "If I know anything about boys, and I have seen a few in my day, you will be ready for another meal by eight o'clock."
I don't know how it is, but things always seem to happen just as Ma says they will. Long beforeeight o'clock came we were waiting for Mr. Norton at our house, as hungry as bears.
After a while he came along, lugging a big basket and wearing a smile that would have made us warm to him if we never had before.
"Captain," said he to Skinny, "if you will detail two of your men to bring some water, we'll get started. Of course, if we were going to make a regular camp we should see that there was water near. We'll have to carry it this time, but it isn't far to the top of the hill. One of you might help me with this basket; there seems to be something in it."
Fifteen minutes later we were all at the top of the hill and had brought some sticks from Plunkett's woods for a fire and a curl of birch bark to kindle it with.
"I understand that you boys came near burning up the woods and village once with a fire up here," said Mr. Norton. "We must be careful about that. Fire is a good servant but a very hard master. We do not need a big blaze for a campfire, so hot that we cannot sit around it. All we needis just enough to look cheerful, to heat our coffee, and furnish enough hot coals for cooking this beefsteak."
He was unpacking the basket while he talked, and Skinny was lighting the fire.
"I don't know that I can tell you anything about making fires and cooking. You boys just about live out of doors in summer, so far as I have observed. You are in great luck to have your homes in a small village. If you should play some of your pranks in a city, I am afraid that you might become unpopular and the police might get after you. Boys in great cities, like Chicago or New York, know little of the freedom and sweetness of country life."
He went over to a little clump of trees and came back with a small branch, from which he stripped the leaves and twigs. When he had finished he had what he called a "pot hanger" of green wood, about four feet long and with a kind of crotch at the smaller end. He put the big end under a stone, the right distance from the fire, and drove a short, crotched stick into the ground tohold the pot hanger over the blaze at the right angle. When that was done all we had to do was to hang a pail of water on the end of the pot hanger and wait for the water to boil.
"I thought that we wouldn't bother with potatoes this time," said he, "although they make good eating when baked in hot ashes, as you boys probably know. Mrs. Norton put in a whole stack of bread and butter sandwiches and some other things, which we must get rid of somehow, and Mrs. Smith gave me this bag as we were leaving the house. I don't know what is in it, and she told me not to open it until the feast was ready."
We all kept our eyes on the bag and wondered what was in it. I thought that I could make a good guess, being better acquainted with Ma than the other boys were, but I couldn't be sure.
By the time the water was boiling the fire had burned down to red-hot coals. Mr. Norton poured the water over the coffee and set the pot in a hot place. Then he began to get busy with the meat, using a broiler which he had brought in the basket. The delicious smell of the beefsteak and the coffeealmost drove us crazy, and we began to be afraid that it would bring the whole village up the hill to us.
It seems as if every meal that we eat out of doors that way is better than any which we ever have had before. It grew dark before we had finished Ma's doughnuts, which we found on opening the bag. As we sat there we could see lights begin to glow all up and down the valley and back of us from an occasional farmhouse, up toward Greylock. Stars came out overhead, and after a little we saw a light in the sky above the East mountain and knew that in a few minutes the moon would come up.
After we had eaten all that we wanted, we threw some wood on the coals to make a little blaze, and then lay around and talked.
Finally Benny said, "I wish you would tell us a story, Mr. Norton, like Mr. Baxter did out in Illinois last summer."
"I am going to tell you a whole lot of stories before we get through with our meetings," he replied, "but let us discuss this Scout business a littlemore first. When you took the Scout's oath and were enrolled in the Tenderfoot class, you pledged your word of honor that you would do your duty to God and your country, that you would help other people at all times, and that you would obey the Scout law. That Scout law is important. Suppose we talk it over. Gabriel, you are leader, can you tell us what the first law is?"
Skinny stood up and folded his arms.
"A Scout is trustworthy," said he.
"It is a great thing to be trustworthy; to be dependable," said Mr. Norton. "In a few years, you boys and others like you will be running this country and the other countries which make up what we call the civilized world. To you doubtless that time seems far off. Let me tell you that it will be here almost before you know it. It seems only yesterday when I myself was a youngster like you."
"I'm going on twelve," Benny told him, "and I have begun to grow again."
"The Band is dependable all right," said Skinny, stabbing around in the air with his fork. "I mean the patrol is. Bet your life, when they monkeywith the Band they run up against a buzz saw."
Bill didn't say a word, but he cawed three times; then flapped his arms and crowed, and ended by standing on his hands and kicking his feet in the air. Bill didn't have to talk. He could do things that made us know what he meant, without saying a word.
"To be dependable," went on Mr. Norton, "means more than to fight for your rights, or for your country's rights. It means that in all walks of life you must be ready to 'deliver the goods.' When a Scout gives his word of honor that settles it. That which he says is true, is true; you can depend upon it, and he will do exactly what he says he will do. That is a quality which we greatly need in men as well as in boys, who soon will be men."
"Corporal, what is the second law?"
Bill thought a minute and then said:
"A Scout is loyal."
"Right you are. You must be loyal to your country, to your parents, to your officers, to youremployers, when you get to work. Loyalty is a great thing. It means to stick together. One boy, or one man, alone, cannot accomplish much. Several working loyally together for a single object, are a power. You and the Gingham Ground Gang used to have considerable trouble, didn't you?"
"We do now," we told him, "except with Jim Donavan. Jim is square and we'd like to have him join us, but he won't leave the Gang; says it wouldn't be right."
"That is the kind of boy we want for a Scout. He is loyal and his honor is to be trusted. You must help me to organize the Gang, as you call them, into another patrol. But what I was going to say is this: When you and the Gang were enemies, which I hope you never will be again, what would have happened if one of you had ventured alone down near the gingham mills?"
"They would have done him up."
"Exactly. Now suppose the eight of you had stood together, back to back, shoulder to shoulder, working against a common enemy?"
"We did once," said Benny, "and they licked us,anyhow, but there were more of them than there were of us."
"Bet your life they didn't lick us very bad," put in Skinny. "It was a snowball fight. They drove us from their hill, but afterward they asked us to come back and slide with them, and we did. We had a fine time."
"It seems to me that in that case both sides won a victory. The greatest victory a boy or man can win is one over himself, over his own passions, his selfishness and meanness. The greatest enemy that he or his country can have will be found right inside his own heart. There is where we all have a fight on hand continually. But, remember, you are Scouts and a Scout's honor is to be trusted."
"Benny, what is the next law?"
"A Scout is helpful."
"There you have it. The highest type of man is the useful one. There was once an old philosopher who said that he counted that day lost in which he did no good deed. A Scout ought to feel the same way. You must try to do something for somebody every day."
"They don't have giants and dragons, any more," said Skinny. "I wish they did; we'd paralyze 'em."
"Henry, what is the next one?"
"I am not quite sure whether it comes next or not, but I think it does. The law says, 'A Scout is a friend to all and a brother to every other Scout.' Does that mean that we must be brothers to the Gingham Ground Gang when they get to be Scouts?"
"Surely it does. Why not? Your folks may have a little more money than their folks and not so much as some one else. What of it? There is something better than money, and that something is manhood. Don't be snobs, whatever you are."
"Now, Mr. Secretary, it is your turn."
"A Scout is courteous," I told him.
"Politeness is a great thing. If he lives up to his pledge, a Scout will be courteous, especially in his treatment of women and children who are younger than he is, and of old people and those who are feeble or handicapped in some way by being crippled or sick. Don't forget that old menstarted as boys and that you boys, if you live, will become old men. Now for number six."
"A Scout is kind and a friend to animals," Harry said.
"And the next?"
"A Scout is obedient," said Chuck.
"Now we are getting down to business. The first duty of a soldier is to obey, and it is so important that he should obey in time of war that a soldier, or scout, who refused to obey orders would be shot. You are supposed to obey orders without question. Obey your parents especially. Obey me as Scoutmaster. Obey your patrol leader; that is your duty as Scouts. If the order does not suit you, do your kicking afterward, not before. First deliver the goods; then you will be in a position to criticise, if necessary."
"We haven't heard from you, Wallie. Let's have number eight."
"A Scout is cheerful."
"That's the idea. Don't grumble or whine. That will never get you anywhere, or the world anywhere.
"I want to say a few words about the next law, 'A Scout is thrifty.' Thrift is of the greatest importance. Save your money. Save your pennies. Put them in the bank. I think they ought to teach thrift and the importance of saving in the public schools. It does not mean that you should be stingy. When you boys worked hard one winter and gave a purse of money to an unfortunate stranger, you were living up to the highest ideals of a Scout. It doesn't mean that money is the most important thing in the world, for it is far from it. But remember this: a man's first duty to his country is to be self-supporting, and to be self-supporting in his old age he must be thrifty in his youth. He must make hay while the sun shines. He must learn to save his money. That is why a Tenderfoot must have one dollar in the bank before he can become a Second Class Scout, and a Second Class Scout must have two dollars before he becomes a First Class Scout. The habit of thrift is very important. When you grow older and go to work, no matter what you earn, I want you to save a part of it.
"There are three more laws," he went on, after a minute, "and they speak for themselves: 'A Scout is brave,' 'A Scout is clean,' 'A Scout is reverent.' I need not tell you to be brave in the presence of danger. Do you understand that sometimes it takes greater courage to stand up for the right? Keep yourselves clean; not only your bodies but your thought and speech. And be reverent, boys, toward God, who made old Greylock and these beautiful hills for you to enjoy."
When he had finished Skinny started to throw some wood on the fire, but Mr. Norton stopped him.
"Never go away," he said, "leaving a fire where it possibly can do any damage. We'll be going home in a few minutes, and before we go this fire must be put out. If the wind should come up in the night the flames might spread into Plunkett's woods."
We saw in a minute that he was right, and, taking sticks, beat out what little fire there was; then started down the hill.
"I'll tell you what I have been thinking," saidMr. Norton, when we were going through Blackinton's orchard. "We have had so much fun to-night that I should like to go camping with you boys for a week, some time this summer. These mountains and woods are just the places for scouting and we could have a campfire every night. What do you say?"
"We say yes," said Skinny, "if our folks will let us, and I know they will."
"Can we play Indian, Mr. Norton?" asked Benny.
"We certainly can. I think everybody likes to get out into the woods and be an Indian once a year. You boys have something to do first, however. I want every one of you to be able to show a First Class Scout badge."
"We can do most of the stunts now," I told him, "only we haven't been seven miles and back."
The book says that before becoming a First Class Scout a boy must go on foot to a point seven miles away and return again, and afterward to write a short account of the trip. It says, too, that itwould be better to go one day and come back the next, and that means to camp out all night.
That last was a hard thing to do because our mothers did not want us to go off that way alone. Mothers always seem to think a boy is going to get hurt or something. Mr. Norton finally talked them into it, all except Benny's mother. She wouldn't stand for it. Benny cried, he felt so badly about it.
"Do it in one day, then," Mr. Norton told him. "Remember that the law says for you to obey your parents without question. That is more important than to do the stunt."