CHAPTER IX
GLEN ENLISTS
Sunday morning in camp. The fierce wind of the night had been succeededby a restful quiet; the sun shone bright in an atmosphere cooled andfreshened by the storm. Glen Mason both felt and saw a differencethroughout all the camp on this quiet morning; no one expected noise orbustle; no one projected expeditions or sports; the peaceful rest of aholy day marked the camp in its earliest hours.
Black Bob had cooked his eggs and bacon according to a special formulawhich he announced as "extra for Sunday," and thereby did he make hiscontribution to the hallowing of the day. After breakfast was theregular time for announcement of the "order of the day" by thescoutmaster, and for any special remarks, any complaints, any petitionsor suggestions.
"We are going to have a good day to-day, boys," said Mr. Newton. "Wehave had a mighty fine week with our swimming and fishing and hikes, andsome of us, too, have found some 'treasure,' if not exactly what wewere searching for. This morning, after camp duties, every boy will finda quiet spot apart from any disturbance and write a letter home. Tellthe folks how you feel, what you eat, what you do, how you sleep. Tellthem about the treasure hunt, tell them about last night's storm. I hopethe boy who got something special out of our 'near cyclone' last nightwill tell his mother about it."
"Who was it?" came a chorus of voices.
"Don't bother about that," replied Mr. Newton. "Perhaps there was morethan one."
"I'm not 'shamed of it," piped up Chick-chick. "I'm it. Got Mr. Newtonout o' bed, I did, I was s' scared. Always have been scared 'boutwind--born that way. But Mr. Newton says, 'D'ye know who walketh uponthe wings of the wind?' An' I said, 'Death'; an' he said, 'God! It's inthe hundred an' fourth Psalm.' S' then he said, 'You c'n stay in my tenttill the blow is over,' an' I said, 'No. I'll go back to me tent likeChristian. With God on the wings I'm safe.' An' as I went back saw BrickMason outside his tent swingin' hammer, an' I says, 'Ain't ye scared,Brick?' an' he says, 'No. I ain't scared. I'm mad.' An' that's all is toit, 'cept'n 'bout the feller I saw when I first went out."
"Now that's fine, boys," said Mr. Newton. "There's a double victory inthat. Don't slight your letters. Make them long and newsy. Rememberthere will be Sunday School around the long table at ten o'clock. Thisafternoon a man is coming from town who has been all around the worldand has seen the battles of great nations as a war correspondent. Hewill speak at three o'clock. By special request we will hold ourcamp-fire to-night at the summit of Buffalo Mound. Every scout willcarry an armful of firewood and his blankets, as a part of the plan isto spend the night in a bivouac on mother earth. Now to your letters."
Glen sat looking out of his tent, just out of the glare of the sun.Writing letters home was no novelty to him. At the school you weresupposed to do it at least once a month, and for a good letter you gotten merits, but no boy ever wrote what he thought because your letterswere all read by the house officer. If he should write a letter hometo-day some reform school officer would be inquiring at the camp for himday after to-morrow. But he would write some kind of a letter--it wouldlook queer if he did not, with all the other boys writing. He wouldwrite just exactly what he thought, too, for once, and the mere factthat the letter was never to be mailed need make no difference.
For once (he wrote) I am being treated about right. There is just onechap here doesn't treat me right and his time's coming. But I don't hatehim as bad as it seems like I would, and I don't want to get in bad withthe scoutmaster so I don't know as I'll do much. The Scoutmaster's aChristian and I've got more use for Christians than I ever had before.Mr. Newton sure treats me fine. Apple's a Christian, he says I ought tobe, too, and he's surely a peach. Mr. Gates is a Christian and nobodyever treated me better. The old Supe is a Christian and I guess he wouldhave treated me right if I'd let him. Jolly Bill treats me fine, too,and I don't know why he isn't one but it makes you feel as if him beingsuch a good fellow certainly ought to be. He says laugh and the worldlaughs with you but it wouldn't have done much good to tell Chick-chickthat last night and it wouldn't have made him brave enough to go back tohis tent and fight it out. Chick-chick talked right up this morning.He's never said anything about being one before but he's always actedlike one--kind of on the square. That's the kind I'm going to be; I meanI would be if ever I got to be one, but I suppose I'd have to go back tothe school and I don't know about that. But I'd like to feel like Appleand him, so sure-like and so safe. I think you'd better try to get me ajob and maybe I can work under another name. Everybody has to work andI'm going to hold up my end. I wouldn't like to be like that J. Jerviceman with his tricks--the man that tried to sell me. I'd tell you allabout him but it would take a long time and this letter ain't ever goingto be sent, anyway. I'm going to do better than send a letter. Just assoon as it's safe I'm coming to see you and I'm going to fix it so I canearn a living for you and you won't have to work any more. So that's allfor this time anyway.
His letter had not been written as easily as it reads, and all theother boys had finished and were making a clamor for envelopes andstamps, a disturbance in which Glen did not join since his letter wasnever to be mailed.
He would have tried to escape the afternoon talk, but Will Spencerclaimed him.
"Push my old billy-cart right up alongside that speaker," he demanded."If he's done half they say he has I want to hear him."
So Glen was not only present but in a prominent place where he was boundto hear all that the speaker had to say. And a very interestingnarrative it was, though we have no space in this story for anything butthe few very last words.
"And so it came about," said the war correspondent, "that after seeingall sorts of soldiers in all manner of warfare, it fell to my lot to seethis one brave man holding up his banner against great hordes ofinvaders in a crowded inland city of China, and he was single-handed.And I was obliged to admit that he was the bravest soldier I had seen;and since the appeal came to me so directly I volunteered. And thus ithappened that one who had been a reporter of scenes of carnage turned towrite the message of the Cross. And now I am going about enlistingrecruits for the army of righteousness and right glad I am that so manyof you are in that army, and right glad I shall be to talk with any ofyou who need help."
Many of the boys came to say a word to the speaker as they dispersed.Glen stood there, next to Spencer's cart. He would not have said a wordhad he been threatened with torture, but he was greatly concerned andboth his hand and heart throbbed with the hope that some one wouldrespond to the eloquent plea that had stirred him so deeply. When theboys all had gone the response came from the least expected place. Itwas from Jolly Bill who had lain in his cart in thrilled interest.
"I've half a mind to do it, Glen," he whispered.
"Oh, you must, Bill. It's just the one thing you need," urged Glen, asearnestly as though he were himself an exhorter.
"How is it?" asked Spencer, turning to the speaker. "You would hardlycare to enlist half a man, would you?"
"No," said the war correspondent. "We don't care to do things by halves,but we're mighty glad to enlist a whole man like you. Whatever accidentyou have suffered hasn't cut you off from being a man after God's ownheart. Shake hands on that."
"I've been finding it pretty empty to 'Laugh and the world laughs withyou,'" admitted Spencer. "It's a hollow laugh a great deal of the time.It doesn't ring true. I want a peace that will help me to have cheerregardless of whether the world laughs with me or at me. I've known itfor a long time but this last week especially I've felt the need of thekind of religion Mr. Newton practices."
"It's the same kind that Apple has," ventured Glen.
"It is for you, too," said the war correspondent. "It is for every onewho will have it."
"You see, though, you don't know me," said Glen. "I've been a prettyhard case."
"Tell us about it," came the invitation.
His mouth once opened Glen's story came rapidly, and in the glow ofconfession he held nothing back, but his hearers were neither alienatednor
offended.
"There's only one thing about a boy like you," said the speaker. "Itisn't how bad you have been. You can't have been so bad but Jesus hascleared your debt. The one thing is, are you through with it all, areyou willing to turn away from yourself and enlist under the banner ofthe cross?"
Glen's face worked with emotion such as he had not felt in many years.
"I don't know what to do," he said, huskily. "I'm all up in the air. I'dlike to be a man like what you told about and like these people thathave been good to me lately. I'd do it even if I wouldn't like some ofthe things I'd have to swallow. But I don't understand what I'd have todo. I've never done anything of the kind."
"You're a good deal like the soldier enlisting, son. He doesn'tunderstand anything. All he knows is that he wants to enlist himself.And that's all you need to know. Your commander will see to the rest.You won't learn everything in a day. You'll make mistakes; you'll breakrules; you'll have to be disciplined. But that is all in the bargain.The only question is will you enlist?"
And Glen enlisted!
The war correspondent was compelled to leave, but before doing so hegave Glen much assurance on many subjects.
"About your school," he said. "I hesitate to advise you. I know yourSuperintendent and will telephone to him to-morrow. Stay with Mr. Newtonuntil you hear from him."
The scoutmaster walked with his guest through the woods to his car.They had scarcely left before the camp had a visitor in the person ofMr. J. Jervice. The boys crowded around him with great interest, foralthough obliged to leave his car he had brought with him many divertingtrifles, for Mr. J. Jervice had no objection to Sunday trade ifconducted on a cash basis.
Glen was still talking to Will Spencer. He was too much occupied withhis recent great experience to be easily diverted, and did not even seehis old friend Jervice. But Mr. J. Jervice having nothing of the kind tooccupy his attention was quick both to see and to speak. Matt Burton wasone of those who heard him speak.
"The reform school boy!" he cried.
"You say he has run away from the reform school?"
"He said so himself," asserted Mr. J. Jervice, "and don't forget that Iam the one who gets the reward."
"You may take him along with you back to where he came. The cheek of thefellow! Come on, scouts, let's run him out. The scoutmaster isn't herebut I'm a patrol leader and I know what to do. Let's run him out."
"Who's that you're going to run out?" asked Glen, coming up, attractedby the loud talking.
"I'm going to run you out, you cheat of a runaway from the reformschool. You are a common thief, for all we know. You may be any kind--"
Alas for Glen's discipline. Alas for his good resolves. Had he beenright in thinking that the service of Jesus was not for such as he? Heflew at Matt with the velocity and ferocity of a tiger. His strength wasthat of a man, for he had worked hard at all kinds of manual labor. Twoor three quick, stinging blows and his passion came to a terrified endas he saw Matt fall to the ground, white and unconscious.