Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp/Chapter VIII
CHAPTER VIII
TELLS ABOUT OUR TRIP UP THE HUDSON
He said, "If they get mad when I talk to you, I'll talk to you on the sly. It's all right to like a fellow that isn't in your patrol, isn't it?"
"Sure it is," I told him, "you have to like everybody. But you do what they tell you and then nobody'll get mad."
He said, "The swimming badge is a good one, isn't it?"
"It's a dandy one," I said. Then he told me that was the one they wanted him to try for." He said, "Can I try for it now?"
I thought I'd better watch my step—safety first, hey? So I said, "You ask Connie. I shouldn't think there'd be any objection to trying now; then after you've passed your first class tests you could just scoop the badge right up, see?"
"I looked at all the pictures of the badges," he said, "and I like the one with the picture of a rooster best. Is the swimming one better than that?"
I said, "Yes, because every scout has got to know how to swim. Anyway, Connie knows best; and he's your patrol leader, so you do whatever he tells you to."
"Will I be able to beat everybody swimming?" he said.
I told him maybe, if he tried hard, and then I told him he'd better go to bed. He said he wouldn't be able to sleep now, on account of thinking about the swimming badge. Anyway, he went and I noticed how skinny his legs were. It made me feel awful sorry for him, because his suit didn't fit him and looked kind of funny. His eyes were funny, anyway, and gave me the fidgets, but in the dark you could just see them shine. I told him to go inside and go to sleep and not think about the swimming badge.
One thing about Skinny, I knew he'd never make a good all-around scout, like some fellows. You know what I mean. Now you take Artie Van Arlen—he's got eleven merit badges and he's got the bronze medal. Maybe you'd say photography was his bug, but he never went crazy about it, that's one sure thing. Take me, I've got nine merit badges—the more the merrier, I don't care.
But Skinny could only think about one thing and he'd go clean crazy about it. Mr. Ellsworth says he's intense— hanged if I know what that is. All I know is that he couldn't think about a lot of things. He just couldn't read the Handbook through. All of a sudden, when he'd be reading it, he'd see something that he liked, and good night, he'd forget everything else. Mr. Ellsworth said Skinny would never do anything except one thing, and most likely that would be a big stunt and if he failed, it would kill him. I guess he was a kind of a genius, like—you know what I mean. Either that or he was half crazy. I could never make him out, I know that.
One thing, I was mighty glad he was going in for the swimming badge and I hoped the Elks would help him. He'd sure have the best swimmer in the troop to help him and that was Hunt Ward; he can swim better than any Raven, or Silver Fox, either—I have to admit that. Especially it's good to go in for the swimming badge right away as soon as you join a troop, even though you can't get your award till you pass your first class tests, because, gee, every fellow ought to know how to swim, that's one sure thing.
The next morning good and early we could see the General Grant (that's Captain Savage's tug), heading across the bay straight for us and as soon as it got close enough, we gave Captain Savage a good cheer. Captain Savage was standing up in the little house smoking his pipe, and he shouted to us and said he was delayed on account of getting his propeller wet. That was just like him, he was always joking.
Then he shouted to us. "It's a wonder you wouldn't get into shallow water; do you know how many feet you've got?" Pee-wee shouted back, "Two; what do you think we are, quadrupeds?" Laugh! Honest, that kid is a scream.
I guess we must have been in pretty shallow water, because Captain Savage made us all hustle throwing ropes and winding them around thing-um-bobs—you know what I mean. And he was in such a hurry that he didn't come on the house-boat at all. But he said we had a mighty neat, comfortable craft, and that it looked as if it might have slid off some street or other into the water. He was awiul funny.
Pretty soon we were sailing up the Hudson alongside of the General Grant. The day before I thought that when the tug came it would tow us behind with a long rope and it seemed funny like, to be tied fast alongside the tug. It seemed kind of as if the house-boat was being arrested—you know how I mean,
Anyway, I liked that way best because we could be always climbing back and forth, and believe me, most of us were on the tug all the time. I guess maybe Captain Savage liked Pee-wee. Anyway, he called for Pee-wee and me to go up in the pilot house, and it was fine to watch him steer and pull the rope that made the whistle blow, Jiminety, didn't we jump the first time we heard it!
Captain Savage said, "Yer see it don't cost me nuthin' fur a blow-out, as you might say. Now, if this here old craft was an automobile, how much would I have to pay for tires with a blow-out every minute, huh?" Then he'd look awful funny like, at Pee-wee.
You can bet Captain Savage was nice to us fellows and we all liked him. He had to stop at Peekskill and he took us all ashore for a peek—that's what he said. And he treated us all to sodas. You get dandy raspberry sodas in Peekskill.
After that we started for Poughkeepsie and that was as far as he was going to tow us, because he had to tow a barge down to New York. But, anyway, we should worry, there isn't any tide above Poughkeepsie and any dinky little kicker could tow us up to Catskill Landing from there, "Believe me," I said, "if there are any ways around here, we'll find them." Finding ways to do things is our middle name.
We had Captain Savage on the house-boat ta lunch with us and Mr. Ellsworth made a speech and said we were all much obliged to him and, oh, boy, when that tug started down the river again, didn't we stand on the cabin roof of the house-boat and cheer Captain Savage. He had about six blow-outs before he got very far—just answering our cheers.
Oh, cracky, but he was one fine man.