Tom Slade : Boy Scout of the Moving Pictures

  Connover told him the whole story. In his extremity he felt drawn toMr. Ellsworth though he showed it in a more effeminate way than Tom hadshown it, and the readiness with which he made the scoutmaster a refugerather jarred upon Mr. Ellsworth. Tom, at least, had never gone topieces like this.

  But the scout movement draws its recruits from every direction, and Mr.Ellsworth was the ideal scoutmaster.

  "Well, then you think you wouldn't like to kill Zulus, after all, hey?"

  "N-no, sir."

  "Too bad we had to sacrifice an innocent robin to find that out, wasn'tit?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The maid at the Bennett bungalow had one good scout quality; she wasobservant and the fleeting glimpse which she had of Master Connoverdeparting with the rifle was promptly communicated to Mrs. Bennett uponher return.

  At the appalling picture of her son trudging across the road into thewoods with a fire-arm over his shoulder, the good lady all butcollapsed. Her first thought was, of course, that he would shoothimself, which seemed likely enough, and her fear for his safetyentirely obliterated her amazement at his shameless disobedience. Itwas the day of Mrs. Bennett's Waterloo.

  Out she went, and even in her haste and excitement she picked up the_Dan Dreadnought_ volume which sprawled on the veranda, and tossedit into the swinging seat, then hurried across the road and into thewoods. The worst thing she had against Captain Dauntless was that helittered her tidy porch.

  She followed the same beaten path to the river which Connover hadfollowed and when she reached the bank a few belated stragglers of thepicnic party were gathering up their belongings on the opposite side.One of them came over for her in the boat and told her briefly of whathad happened.

  "Is he alive or dead?" she demanded, hysterically. "Tell me the worst!"

  Her inquiry was for Connover, of course, and upon being told that hisonly trouble was a case of utter fright, she said, "Oh, my poor boy!"

  She followed the trail to Camp Ellsworth, hurrying along the beatenpath which the scouts had made, until glimpses of their homelike littlesettlement were visible through the trees.

  As she approached it she noticed, even in her anxiety, wide bands ofbright red high up on the tree-trunks at intervals. She learned laterthat these were to indicate the path as well as might be, for adistance on either side of it so that no arrow or missile of any sortshould be shot across it. It was one of several precautions to guardagainst the breaking of this inviolable rule. The path was sacredterritory.

  Mrs. Bennett was now within the outskirts of the camp and could smellthe savory odor of cooking. She passed the tree where the Silver Foxeshad spiked a piece of birch-bark with S. F. chalked upon it to indicatethat the boys of that patrol were watching the industrious activitiesof a certain squirrel which patronized that particular tree. Anothertrunk bore a similar card with R. on it, showing that the Ravens werespying on the private affairs of an oriole which nested above. Littlethat oriole knew that seven photographs of him were pasted in the TroopBook.

  At camp a Red Cross flag had been raised above Mr. Ellsworth's own tentand except for the quiet comings and going of the scoutmaster himselfand Doc Carson, all was quiet here. Mrs. Bennett had expected to findthe camp a scene of commotion.

  "_Good_ evening, Mrs. Bennett," said the scoutmaster, in a tone ofpleasant surprise. The spider was in his web at last, but he concealedhis feeling of elation. "You are just in time to grace the festiveboard. We're going to have corn wiggles; did you ever eat a cornwiggle, Mrs. Bennett?"

  "Where is my boy?" she demanded.

  "Sit down, won't you? He's over there learning how to tell a mushroomfrom a toadstool--something every boy ought to know."

  "And this other boy?" she added, glancing inside the tent.

  "Fine-doing fine. One of our boys hiked it to town for a doctor, and Ithought you were he when the sentinel told me someone was coming."

  "You saw me coming?"

  MRS. BENNETT "COMES ACROSS"]

  "No, we heard you long before we saw you. I wish now that Connover'ssense of hearing were a little more acute. Then he'd have been able todistinguish the locality of a human voice. But there's no use cryingover spilled milk."

  Mrs. Bennett listened breathlessly while he repeated the story of theafternoon's occurrences. While he was talking a scout approached,removed his hat, saluted Mr. Ellsworth, and handed him a paper. It wasa memorandum of the temperature of the river water, an amateur forecastof the weather for the next day, and a "stunt" proposition for O. K.The scoutmaster asked one or two questions and dismissed the messenger.Mrs. Bennett was a little surprised to notice that the questions seemedto bear with practical sense and foresight upon the physical welfare ofthe boys.

  "Do you give your approval to everything?" she asked.

  "No--not always," he laughed.

  "And what then? You can't _watch_ them _all_."

  "Oh, dear, no; I just give my veto and forget it."

  "You take the temperature of the river?"

  "Yes, and test it for impurities twice a week. Doc attends to that.Come inside, Mrs. Bennett."

  She greeted the reclining O'Connor boy and smoothed his foreheadtenderly.

  "Have his parents been notified?"

  "No, I'm going to town myself this evening," said Mr. Ellsworth. "I'lltell them. My idea is to have him remain with us."

  "And who will care for him while you are gone?"

  Mr. Ellsworth laughed. "Oh, Doc will be glad to get rid of me," saidhe. "I'll be back tomorrow."

  "You bathed it with carbolic, did you?"

  "No, Doc tells me carbolic is a little out of date. How about that,Doc?"

  Doc assented and there was something so eloquently suggestive ofefficiency about Doc that, although Mrs. Bennett sniffed audibly, shedid not venture to ask what antiseptic had been used. She had supposedthat antiseptics of all kinds would be quite unheard of in a camp ofboys, and here out in the woods she was being told by a quiet,respectful young fellow in a khaki suit that her favorite antisepticwas "out of date."

  She received the blow with fortitude.

  At a little distance from the tent several boys were engaged in thepreparation of supper and the setting of the long board under thetrees. Others were busy with various forms of house-keeping, or rathercamp-keeping, and her domestic instinct prompted her to cast anoccasional shrewd look at the systematic and apparently routine workwhich was going on. What she could not help noticing was the generalaspect of orderliness which the camp displayed. Not a paper box nor atin can was to be seen. She had always associated camping with a sortof rough-and-tumble life and with carelessness in everything pertainingto one's physical welfare. Cleanliness was, to her notion, quiteincompatible with life in tents and cooking out of doors.

  Her casual discovery of the practice of testing the river water atstated intervals was in the nature of a knock-out blow. She felt alittle bewildered as she watched the comings and goings of the troopmembers. She did not altogether like the realization that the waterwhich had never been tested for her own son's bathing was regularlytested for this "Wild West crew."

  "What is that?" she asked.

  "That's our bulletin-board. Let me show you about the camp, Mrs.Bennett. You see, you are not our only visitor; we have a delegationfrom Barrel Alley, as well."

  A little way from the roaring fire, whence emanated a most savory odor,the gallant representatives of Bridgeboro's East End were watching thepreparations for supper. They had proved faithless to the excursionistsand Mr. Ellsworth had invited them to dine at camp, supplementing theinvitation with an offer to pay their way home by train, they havingcome gratuitously on a "freight." Mr. Ellsworth looked far into thefuture, but just at that moment Mrs. Bennett was his game.

  "Here, you see, is one of the patrol tents and over here is the other.We're hoping for still a third. Here's our wireless apparatus. The boyshave just discovered that Mr. Berry, the storekeeper over in thevillage, has an outfit, so they're in high hopes of having a
littlechat with him. Here, you see, are the drain ditches, so that the campis free from dampness and stagnant water. We'll be lowering the colorspresently. Dorry, my boy, bring the Troop Book over so Mrs. Bennett cansee it--and the Troop Album also. Ah, here's Connie now."

  From among the group about the fire Connover came guiltily forward.Mrs. Bennett put her arm about him although she said nothing and seemednot altogether pleased. The recollection of his disobedience was nowbeginning to supplant her fear and anxiety. A little group of scouts,all on the alert for service, and anxious to advertise the details andfeatures of their camp life, accompanied the trio about.

  "What are those?" Mrs. Bennett asked.

  "Spears," said Roy.

  "Do you throw them at animals?"

  "No, indeed," laughed another boy. "We spear papers with them, likethis." He speared a fallen leaf to show her.

  "Camp is cleared every morning," said Mr. Ellsworth, "and here is ourfirst aid outfit--our special pride," he added as they re-entered hisown little tent. "We have better facilities for the care of an injuredperson than are to be had in the village."

  "What were those signs I saw on the trees as I came?"

  "Just stalking notes; we study and photograph the wild life."

  There was a moment's pause. "It is certainly nice to encourage afeeling of friendship for the forest life," she conceded.

  "It is not so much a feeling of friendship as of kinship, Mrs.Bennett."

  She turned about and looked sharply at one of the scouts who stood nearby. "You are not the Slade boy?" she said.

  "Yes-mam."

  "I hardly knew you."

  Mrs. Bennett's housewifely instincts would not permit her to give anysign of surrender until she had proof of the cooking. But away down inher mother's heart was an uncomfortable feeling which she could notovercome; a feeling of disappointment and dissatisfaction with her ownson. She had too much pride to show it, but Connover felt in some vagueway that she was not well pleased. She was a mother of high ideals andshe was not undiscerning. Aside from her son's disobedience, which hadbeen a shock to her, what an inglorious afternoon had been his! Itseemed that every one about her had done something worthy thatafternoon except her own son. There lay his victim, the O'Connor boy,bearing his suffering in silence. She noticed that the boys seemedsomehow to make allowance for Connover, and it touched her pride.

  While the last few touches for this special meal were preparing, sheand Mr. Ellsworth wandered a little way out of camp. He spoke kindly,almost indulgently, she thought, but as one who knew his business andwas qualified to speak. He had stormed Mrs. Bennett's fortress too manytimes to mince matters now.

  "I don't know that you're really to blame, Mrs. Bennett--exceptindirectly."

  "I--to blame?"

  "I blame _Dan Dreadnought_."

  "I _never_ approved of Captain Dauntless' books," she said. "Itwas a compromise."

  "Look up there, Mrs. Bennett--see that nest? Would you believe it, theboys got a photograph of the young birds in that nest and the old birdnever knew it."

  They walked along, he swinging a stick whick he had broken from a tree."There is no such man as Captain Dauntless, you know. Captains in thearmy have other work to do than to write stories for boys. CaptainDauntless is a myth."

  "It is so hard to know what boys should read," she sighed.

  "It is not as hard as it used to be. Remind me to give you a paperbefore you go. You see, if Connie had been a scout,--well now, let'sbegin at the beginning. If he had been a scout he wouldn't have readthose books in the first place; they're really not books at all,they're infernal machines. Then if he had been a scout, of course, hewouldn't have disobeyed you; he wouldn't have sneaked off----"

  Mrs. Bennett set her lips rather tight at that word, but she did notcontest the point.

  "If he had been a scout he wouldn't have killed a robin--but if he_had_ killed a robin, it would have been by skill and not by asilly, dangerous random shot--and he wouldn't have been afraid of thepresence of death or the sight of blood. If he had been a scout hecould have determined unerringly the locality of sounds and humanvoices, and Charlie O'Connor wouldn't----"

  Mrs. Bennett winced.

  "If he had been a scout he would have known how to swim; there isn't amember of my troop that can't swim. And if he had been a scout hewouldn't have been afraid to go home. Connie has the best home in theworld, Mrs. Bennett----"

  "I have done everything for Connover----"

  "But you see, he was afraid to go to it--and so he came here with us."

  The cheerful call of the bugle told that supper was ready. Through thetrees they could see the scouts assembling until each stood at hisplace at the long board under trees whose foliage had begun to dim inthe fading light.

  "It's a pretty sight," she said, pausing and raising her lorgnette toher eyes. "What are they all standing for?"

  "Till you have taken your seat."

  Smilingly she started toward them with all the cultured affability of atrue guest. She knew how to do this thing, and she was quite at homenow. Mr. Ellsworth knew that her manner covered a sense of humiliation,but she carried it off well and so together they came out of the woodsinto the clearing.

  "I was saying that he came here and--and we want him to stay here. Willyou let him join us, Mrs. Bennett?"

  "Would he have two blankets over him at night?" she asked after amoment's dismayed pause.

  The question was not a surrender; it was a flag of truce, meaning thatshe would discuss terms.

  The surrender came after supper.

  CHAPTER XIX

  FIRST AID BY WIRELESS