CHAPTER II--Joe Learns How Many Friends He Has, and Achievesa Tent to Sleep In
Tom could hardly sleep that night, for thinking about his friend. Thedoctor would probably tell him he'd got to go to the Adirondacks tolive, or maybe to Colorado or New Mexico; Tom knew that people with badlungs were sent to those places. But how was Joe going to get there, andhow was he going to live when he got there? Joe's mother was a widow,with two other, younger children, and it was hard enough for her to sendJoe through high school, in spite of what he earned in summer driving amowing machine on the golf links. If he had consumption, the doctorwouldn't let him work--he would make him keep quiet. How was it going tobe managed? Tom kept turning over this problem in his head, till hefinally fell asleep for very weariness.
The next day he and Mr. Rogers again went with Joe to Dr. Meyer's. Onthe road Tom was silent and serious.
"Say, what's the matter with you, Spider? You look as if you were goingto my funeral," said Joe.
"Yes, what's the matter with you?" Mr. Rogers added, giving him a sharplook which Joe didn't see. "Scouts are supposed to be cheerful, aren'tthey?"
"Yes, sir," Tom answered, trying to grin. But he made rather a poor jobof it, he was so worried and anxious.
Dr. Meyer sat them all down in his office.
"Well," he said, turning to Joe, "how do you feel this morning? Did youkeep still as I told you to?"
"You bet he did!" Tom put in.
"We'll see, we'll see," the doctor smiled, putting a thermometer intoJoe's mouth, and picking up his left wrist to feel his pulse.
"Now, that's better than yesterday," he added, after examining thethermometer. "You see what resting does. I guess you'll have to do somemore of it."
"You mean I can't play second next week, either?" Joe cried.
"I mean you can't play second for a long time," said the doctor,gravely.
"Is--is there something the matter with me?" Joe cried, growing a littlepale.
"There isn't much yet, but there will be, if you don't do what I tellyou," the doctor answered. "You have a case of incipient tuberculosis,that hasn't developed enough yet so we can't cure it, and make you weigha hundred and eighty pounds by the time you are twenty, or evennineteen. You ought to be a big man, you know. But it will all depend onyou."
Tom was leaning half out of his chair to listen.
"What must he do, doctor?" he asked, unable to keep silent.
"Are you going to make him do it?" the doctor smiled.
"I am, or--or bust his old head," Tom replied, with such heartfeltaffection that both the men laughed.
"Do you sleep with your windows wide open at night?" the doctor askedJoe.
"Why--I--I can't in winter, 'cause ma won't let me; it makes the roomtoo cold for the kid, she says."
"What!" Dr. Meyer exclaimed. "Do you sleep with a small brother?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, the first thing you do is to stop that! You must sleep in a roomby yourself. It's not safe for your brother. You must sleep with thewindows wide open."
"Couldn't he have my tent, and sleep outdoors?" Tom put in.
"Better still," the doctor replied. "Now, I'm going to make up a list ofwhat you are to eat and drink, and a schedule of how you are to rest,and how much you can walk around."
"Walk around?" Joe said, bewildered. "I _have_ to walk to school, andback."
"No you don't. No more school for you this term," the doctor answered.
Joe's jaw dropped. "Why--I--I--I'll not get promoted into the seniorclass, then!" he gasped. "Oh, please, I _must_ go to school!"
"Good gracious, here's a boy that _wants_ to go to school!" laughed Dr.Meyer. "It does you credit, my son, but it can't be."
"But it's been so hard for mother----"
"It would be harder for her if you couldn't go to school at all--ever,wouldn't it?" said the doctor, leaning forward and laying a kindly handon Joe's knee.
"Yes--yes, sir," said Joe, who was now pretty white and scared.
"Dr. Meyer," Tom put in, "oughtn't Joe to go away somewhere to themountains--the Adirondacks, or Colorado, or--or some place?"
"Well, he'd undoubtedly mend quicker in the Rockies, if he could belooked after," the doctor replied. "I wouldn't say it's absolutelynecessary in his case, but if he knows somebody out there to look afterhim, and can afford it----"
"'Course I can't afford it, Spider," Joe put in. "Quit pipe dreamin'."
"I'm not pipe dreaming," Tom replied. "If you'll get well quicker in theRockies, you're going to the Rockies, and I'm going along to take careof you."
"How are you going to manage it, Tom?" said Mr. Rogers.
"I--I dunno, but I'm _going_ to, somehow. Old Joe's got to get well andfinish high school, and room with me in college, and then we're going tobe civil engineers or foresters, and----"
"But the first thing is to get well," the doctor interrupted. "You canplan for the Rockies later. Right now we must see about Joe's diet anddaily schedule."
After he had drawn these up--and it seemed to Joe he'd got to live onraw eggs and milk and cod liver oil, and spend most of his life in achair on the porch--the two boys and the scout master departed.
It was now Joe who was depressed and glum, and Tom who needed noprompting to be cheerful. The minute he saw his chum in the dumps, heset about restoring his spirits.
"Buck up, old scout," he cried. "The doc told you it would be all right.Gee, what's just sitting on the porch for a few weeks? You won't have totranslate any old Caesar, and I'll come every day to see you swallowingcod liver oil, and then as soon as I can get it doped out, we'll hit thetrail for the Rocky Mountains. Don't you want to see the RockyMountains?"
"Oh, quit your kidding," poor Joe answered. "The only way I'll ever seethe Rocky Mountains is in the movies."
"Don't you fool yourself. Mr. Rogers and I'll dope out something yet,won't we, Mr. Rogers?"
"We'll put our heads together hard, anyhow," the scout master answered."But first, Tom, we must get the scouts together and find a way in whichwe can all help Joe's mother, now Joe can't haul wood and do heavywork."
"That's easy, sir. And we must teach all the scouts to stop sleepingwith their windows shut, too, mustn't we?"
"Alas!" said Mr. Rogers. "I thought I had. I guess we've got to teachthe mothers and fathers to let them open the windows. And that's noteasy, Tom."
"I s'pose not. Funny how afraid some folks are of fresh air. Well, oldJoe's going to get plenty. I'm going to set up my tent in his yard thisafternoon."
"Not your new tent, Spider, it might spoil it," said Joe.
"Spoil your grandmother," Tom retorted. "I guess it's my tent and I cando what I please with it, can't I? You go home and drink a tumbler ofcod liver oil."
"I'm going with him, and have a talk with his mother," said Mr. Rogers."You can bring the tent after dinner, and if you need a cot bed for it,stop at my house and get my folding camp cot. That'll be mycontribution."
"Sure, we'll fix him up so he'll never want to move into the houseagain," cried Tom, hurrying off toward his house.
His tent, a Christmas present from his father and mother, was Tom'sproudest possession. It was made of balloon silk, very thin and light,but water-proof. It could "sleep" two occupants comfortably, and hadmosquito netting screens for the flaps, and a little screen curtain forthe rear window. It could be erected either on poles or on a rope strungbetween two trees. Yet the whole tent could be rolled up into a bundlewhich you could tuck under your arm, and it weighed but fifteen pounds.It cost a considerable sum of money, for Tom's parents, while not rich,wanted to make Tom a good present that last Christmas as a reward forhis improvement in his school work. We might as well tell the truthabout it, for a story that doesn't tell the truth is sure to get foundout. Tom, in his sophomore year in the high school, had been a prettypoor student. He was "bright enough," as his teachers said, but he wouldnot study. He had got interested in so many things that seemed moreworth while to him than books--trapping, bui
lding a cabin in the woods,football and baseball, and especially the scouts. But after hissophomore year was over, and the summer vacation, too, was nearly done,Mr. Rogers called him into the studio one day and had a long talk withhim. The result of that talk was that he came out pretty well ashamed ofhimself. Here he was a patrol leader in the scouts, Mr. Rogers pointedout, and right end on the high school team, with the prospect of beingcaptain his senior year--in other words, one of the leaders among theboys. It was up to him, then, to set the rest a good example. Besides,he wanted to go to college, did he not, or to a forestry school? Did henot know that there were examinations to be passed? And what good was asurveyor or an engineer or a forester who did not know his business? DidTom think you could know your business without studying? And that didnot mean beginning to study some time in the future--it meant beginningnow! Mr. Rogers ended up by telling him he was a bad scout, a bit of aslacker, which got to him more than anything else that was said.
He went out of the studio very sober, and he began to work that fallterm as he had never worked in school before. Of course, he soon foundout that if he got his lessons every day, it was really very much easierto keep along than it had been when he used to let them slide for two orthree days at a time, and then try to catch up. In fact, it was reallyno trouble at all, and from almost the tail end of the class, hesuddenly moved up to number four. His father and mother were sodelighted that they gave him the balloon silk tent for Christmas.
As soon as dinner was over, he got this tent out of his closet, wrappedin its canvas bag, took his scout axe and some sticks from the wood-shedto make pegs with, and started for Joe's house. On the way he stoppedfor Mr. Rogers' folding cot bed. He found Joe sitting on the back porch,in the sun, and he made him stay there, though poor Joe wanted to comedown and help set the tent up.
There were two trees in the back yard, and between them Tom strung adouble strand of clothesline, through the rings on the top of the tent.Then he carefully raked the ground below, and with a shovel filled in alittle hollow so that the rain water would drain away and not come inunder. Then he stretched the tent, cut his pieces of wood into pegs, andpegged it down. After that, he unfolded and set up the cot bed, and withthe help of Joe's mother made up the bed with blankets, put an old rugon the ground beside it, brought out an old chair, a small table, acandlestick and candle, and a washbowl and pitcher.
"There!" he cried. "That's good enough for anybody. Now, old Cod Liver,you can sleep outdoors, rain or shine."
Joe insisted on coming down to see his "new room," and while they wereinspecting it three of the Moose Patrol came into the yard. They hadheard the news about Joe--"by wireless, I guess," Tom said, for he hadnot told anybody except his own father and mother--and had come to seewhat they could do to help.
"Say, that's some swell bedroom, Joe," said Bob Sawtelle. "Wish I hadone like it. Ma wouldn't always be callin' me down for spillin' water onthe wall paper."
"What do you mean, spillin' water on the wall paper?" Joe demanded."What do you do, throw it around the room?"
"Aw, no, but a feller splashes around washin' his face, and dumpin' thebowl into the slop basin, don't he?"
"I guess you do," Tom laughed. "Do you fellows really want to help oldJoey?"
"That's what we're here for," said all three.
"All right, we'll get the kindlings split for the next week, and thecoal brought up for Mrs. Clark. Where's the axe, Joe?"
Joe showed them, and the four boys went at the wood-pile and the coalbin. They split enough kindlings to last at least a week, filled up thewood-box by the kitchen stove and piled more wood behind it and carriedup three hods of coal besides a big basket full.
"You're awful good to do this for Joe and me," said Mrs. Clark.
"Oh, that's what scouts are for," Tom declared. "Some of us are going tocome around every day and 'tend to things, so old Joey can mind thedoctor, aren't we, fellows?"
"Sure thing."
"Ra-_ther_."
"You bet."
"Say, Spider," Walter Howard suggested, "you ought to call a scoutmeeting and get everybody in on this--divide it up so one scout comesevery day for a week on his way home from school. Why, old Joe'll bewell again before we've all had a turn!"
"That's what I'm going to do, Walt, Tuesday night. Pass the word along."
"I know what my old man's goin' to say," Bob remarked.
"Well, what's he goin' to say? Spring it."
"He's goin' to say, 'If you boys were asked to split kindlings for yourown mothers every day, you'd put up an awful holler.'"
"Oh, sure, mine too," laughed Walt. "They always say that. Seems as ifthey thought we were splitting kindlings because we liked to splitkindlings, instead of because we like old Joey."
"That's the dope," said Tom. "Funny how folks don't see thingssometimes."
"Ain't it?" said Bob. "Well, so long, Joe, old scout. Hope you sleepwell in the tent."
"So long, Bob."
"So long"--from the others.
"So long, fellows--much obliged."
Only Tom was left.
"It's pretty nice to have so many friends," said Joe, "even if you haveto get sick to find it out."
"Now you've found out, you get well again," Spider laughed. "I'll stopon my way to school in the morning and see you, and find out what booksyou want brought home. So long, old top."
"So long, Spider."
Tom went out of the gate, or, rather, over it, vaulting it with onehand. Joe's mother came out on the porch and put one arm around theboy's neck, and with the other hand felt his forehead.
"I don't think you've got so much fever to-night," she said.
"It's 'cause the fellers have cut all the wood and hauled the coal, thatused to make me so tired. Gee, they're good scouts, aren't they,ma--'specially old Spider."
"Yes, Joe," said she, "there are a lot of good people in the world."
"You bet," said Joe.