Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp/Chapter X
CHAPTER X
TELLS ABOUT SKINNY AND THE ELKS
Well, that was the way it was with Skinny and I could see that the Elks were rushing him through, so that he'd get the badge. That used to be one trouble with the Elks and I don't care if they do know I said it. They got one good lesson to cure them, that's sure. The trouble with them was they were making a collection of badges and when you're out for badges, you skip at lot of pages in the Handbook, that's sure.
The next day I said to Connie Bennett—this is just what I said; I said, "I hope you won't get mad at me again if I say something about Skinny, because, anyway, it's none of my business, that's sure. But as long as you fellows are busy teaching him stunts and things, I don't see that there would be any harm in it, if I read some things in the Handbook to him—some other kind of things, I mean."
He said, "What kind of things?"
"Oh, just about the laws and things like that, like about being honest and obedient—you know."
"You keep your hands off my patrol," that's just what he said; "and you needn't start hinting that the Elks are dishonest—"
"Who's hinting that?" I said, kind of mad; "you remind me of an airplane, you're always going up in the air."
"If any of my patrol are dishonest, they'll be thrown out," he said, "and maybe they'll be welcome in the Silver Foxes."
"Sure," I said, "we make a specialty of burglars and pickpockets; we eat 'em alive. All I was asking you was that you let me teach Skinny some of the 'idea' stuff—you know what I mean."
"You're jealous because he's a genius," Connie said; "and you want to fill him up with grandmother stuff. Why don't you let the kid alone? We'll take care of him."
"All right," I said; "I should worry. Only there's no use getting mad; we're all one troop."
"Yes, but we're three separate patrols," he said.
"United we stand, divided we sprawl," I said. Then he walked away.
That was the second day at Poughkeepsie and most all day the Elks were busy turning Skinny into a fish, Some of the rest of us went up to Metzger's Candy Store to get some jaw-breakers. Did you ever eat those? Pee-wee was quiet for an hour munching one. The licorice ones are best. In the afternoon we sat along the cabin roof watching Skinny and the Elks. Good night, you should have seen that kid! Every time the fellows in the boat had to row after him, because he'd go swimming away on his own hook. He never paid any attention to what they told him.
"Throw him a jaw-breaker," Grove Bronson said; "just for fun."
"Nix," I said; "you don't catch me interfering with the buzz-saw. Twice was enough. When I try any polishing, I'll polish up the Silver Foxes."
"Go ahead, throw him one," Grove said to Peewee. But I guess Pee-wee didn't have any jawbreakers to spare. His cheeks were sticking out and there was licorice all over his lips, and he said —this is the way it sounded: "I—ooo—go—to—goo—to—are—" something like that, honest.
"Go in and wash your face," Doc said; "you look like a minstrel actor in a rainstorm."
"Yu—sht—p—m—nd—r—n—business." Peewee blurted out. Crackey, I thought I'd die.
Pretty soon Doc Carson (he's a Raven) threw a jaw-breaker out into the water and Skinny got it before it went down.
"What do you know about that little water snake," El Sawyer said. Then he shouted, "Bully for you, Skinny!"
I said, "You'd better look out, you'll get yourself in trouble."
"What do I care for the Elks?" he said.
"That's all right," I said; "Connie's got Skinny copyrighted, all rights reserved."
Then, all of a sudden, Wig Weigand shouted, "Look at that, will you? Look!"
We could just see Hunt Ward reach out of the skiff for Skinny, when all of a sudden he disappeared and came up about twenty feet from the skiff. Everybody began laughing and I guess the Elks were mad, because they thought we were just sitting up there kidding them.
Right then I heard Mr. Ellsworth calling out from just in back of us, "Take him in the skiff and bring him aboard, Huntley."
"Now—e—ng—t—et—cld—down," Pee-wee said, munching away on a jaw breaker.
"You look as if you'd been gargling a bottle of ink," I told him. "Don't talk, you can't do two things at once."
Pretty soon Skinny came up the ladder to the cabin roof where we were all sitting. His wet bathing suit stuck to him and it made him look terribly thin, and his hair was all streaked and the water was dripping from his face. But anyway, his eyes were bright and all excited—I never saw another fellow that had eyes like that. He had the piece of candy in his hand and it was all melting from the water and his hand was black and sticky. Jiminy, he looked awful small and skinny alongside of Mr. Ellsworth, and I had to feel sorry for him as soon as Mr. Ellsworth began to speak,
Skinny looked up at him and said, "I got it—I dived and got it—see—I saved it—I didn't eat it. I can swim under the water. Now can I have the badge?" Cracky, the way he stared, if I'd had the badge, I'd have torn it off my arm and handed it to him, honest I would.
Mr. Ellsworth just looked at him and said, "No, you may not have the badge. Before you can have the badge for swimming you must be a better scout. You must learn to be obedient. You heard one of your patrol tell you not to go under water. You heard your patrol leader tell you to get into the skiff, Do you think you know better than they do, what is best for you?"
Even still he didn't pay any attention, he was so excited. "Now am I a hero?" he said.
"No, you are not a hero," Mr. Ellsworth told him; "and you will go inside and get your uniform on. The first duty of a scout is to obey his leader, and you have failed to do that. You are very much mistaken as to the meaning of heroism, and it wasn't necessary to bring us any proof that you got the candy or whatever that is. Scouts are not in the habit of lying and deceiving. We expect always to believe you without proof. Throw that away and go inside and get your clothes on."
Gee, maybe he was right, but anyway, I felt mighty sorry for Skinny. His eyes were all full of tears and he went over to the rail and threw the sticky jaw-breaker out into the water. I could see by his neck that he was gulping and trying not to cry and, oh, boy, it made me feel bad. It seemed as if it was always that way with him—that he had to be disappointed and that things never came out right with him. Anyway, I said to myself, it's Connie's fault, and all the rest of the Elks are to blame, too. Why didn't they tell him in the beginning about those other things. All they cared about was showing their new member off to the rest of the troop, and you see how it ended,
First I thought I'd go in and talk to Skinny and tell him he was a wonder, for that was just what he was, and Mr. Ellsworth knew it, too. Then I decided that I'd better not on account of Connie. And anyway, I wouldn't have any right to go in and spoil what our scoutmaster said, would I?