CHAPTER XVI THE INVISIBLE BADGE
"What the dickens does he mean by an invisible badge, do you suppose?"Westy Martin asked.
"You can go through _my_ pockets," said Roy. "Tomasso is the Boy Scoutpuzzle. They ought to give him away with a years subscription to _Boys'Life_. I wish that hadn't happened, though. Jiminy, who'd have thoughtthat kid would go up in the air like that!"
Tom had not been long in regaining his stolid composure; he appeared toentertain no grudge against Raymond, and even offered to bait his hookfor him, for the little fellow angled continually, notwithstanding thathe never caught anything. But his offer was indignantly refused, andRaymond would have nothing to do with him.
The _Honor Scout_ cruised leisurely up the river, held at anchor for thescouts to swim now and then, and making shore at safe places when thetide was full, for luncheon or supper on the wooded banks with theprecipitous mountains rising sheer above them.
Harry Stanton was hardly recognizable now as the panic-stricken,scatter-brained youth whom they had found on the mountain. Under Mr.Ellsworth's eagle eye he had a chance to show his skill at swimming, buthis wish to be ever in the water was discouraged and for the most part hecontented himself with reading the Handbook and studying the second-classtests. Already he had "backfired" which was the word they used for theact of qualifying for a merit badge before one reached the stage wherethe scout rules would permit him to receive such a badge.
This was in music. He had played a mandolin in former days and now he hadone of those Hawaiian instruments--a Ukulele--and he would sit on thecabin locker by the hour picking out the soft South Sea airs, to thedelight of the whole troop.
The dream of his life at present was to attain to second-class, and hewould talk eagerly about tracking and signalling and first-aid. Hisimpulsiveness sometimes ran to the point of agitation and he seemed tohave little balance wheel when he got excited, but he was getting betterfast and as the boys came to know him for what he was they grew to likehim immensely.
In the course of their meanderings northward, they came again to CatskillLanding and Roy, Doc Carson and Pee-wee hiked up to the camp to see howthings were and to get a sweater which Doc had left there, while theothers transferred some of the luggage from the _Honor Scout_ to the_Good Turn_, for the Elks meant to continue in the smaller boat so as torelieve the rather congested condition of the other.
Late in the afternoon the three scouts returned, Doc carrying the sweateron the end of his staff like a pennant. Roy carried a large jar ofmarmalade (or "motherlade" as he called it) which the chief cook hadpresented to the voyagers; and Pee-wee carried an extensive scout smile.He was Law Eight, personified.
"What's the news?" called one of the group that was lolling on the _HonorScout's_ cabin.
"The plot grows thinner," said Roy. "Here, take this and put it in thegalley, compliments of Beefsteak Ben.... Don't say a word, a dark andbloody mystery has been solved. Believe _me_, they've got a sleuth upthere that has Tom beaten forty-'leven ways."
"How's everybody?" Will Bronson asked.
"Fine," said Doc. "There's two troops there from Boston----"
"You ought to see the beans that crowd eats," Roy interrupted; "and mincepie--go-o-odnight!"
"There's a bunch came from Brooklyn----"
"Can you blame them?" interrupted Roy again.
"And a troop from Canada----"
"Daon'tcher knaow," interrupted Roy, with an exaggerated imitation of theEnglish accent.
"Gee, that's some troop," said Doc. "They came from Montreal and theywear trousers that don't tuck in and show part of their legs and theywear little silver swastika badges that they get for special service.They look awfully different from the other fellows----"
"They showed us how to raise the English flag," said Pee-wee, excitedly."Maybe you think the English flag hasn't got any top and bottom to it.Anybody can tell when the American flag is upside down----"
"Well, I should hope so," said Mr. Ellsworth.
"And maybe you think because the English flag has a center design thatyou can't fly it upside down---- There's where you're wrong!"
"I don't see that any of us is wrong since none of us has committed thatcrime," laughed Mr. Ellsworth. "We're not in the habit of flying theBritish flag at all."
"I did," boasted Pee-wee.
"Well, then, don't blame us for your sins," chuckled the scoutmaster.
Pee-wee subsided for the moment, but the time was to come, and that notso far distant, when this redoubtable "good turner" should enter storesand even public buildings, in Uncle Sam's domain, and do the BritishEmpire a good turn by explaining how her proud emblem was being flownwithout, upside down.
"They've been doing war work," said Doc. "They built recruiting stands inMontreal, and they sand-papered three thousand muskets that had to bevarnished, and distributed enlistment posters, and---- Oh, I don't knowwhat all. They showed us a poster like the ones they distributed. It said'Meet me at the battle-line.'"
"Meet me at the clothes-line, that's where I hang out!" put in Roy.
"Oh, they're one peach of a troop!" enthused Pee-wee.
This troop of Canadian scouts had produced a great impression on thethree boys, and, from their account, had done the same on all the othersat Temple Camp. The three were full of enthusiasm for theirwide-awakeness and efficiency, to say nothing of their patrioticactivities. It started the Bridgeboro boys thinking of what part theymight be permitted to play if Uncle Sam were drawn into the great war.
These Canadian youngsters, according to Doc, had shown the greatestfriendliness toward their American brothers, standing with hats removedwhen the _Star Spangled Banner_ was sung, and had become very popular incamp, and shown an almost uncanny proficiency in tracking and the facultyfor deduction. One of their patrol leaders, indeed, was a veritablehand-writing expert, and knew besides dozens of scout signs used in theCanadian Rockies. But it fell out that he did Tom Slade a very bad turn.
The enthusiastic report of the boys had two very marked effects upon theparty, one of which they would be destined to recall in strenuous days tocome. These were their admiration for the fine organization and superbproficiency of the English scouts, and for the manner in which they were"doing their bit" for their country in these days of trial. It seemed tobring the Bridgeboro boys very near to the war.
Garry, who sat quietly upon the combing listening to Doc's account, withoccasional spasmodic punctuations by Pee-wee, thought regretfully of hisown efforts to form a little troop, and of how meagre and discouragingthe results had been beside these splendidly organized scout units withwhich it seemed his fate to mingle.
"Well, how about the mystery?" Connie Bennet prompted.
"I thank you," said Roy. "The mystery is all right, all right, and itproves the good old rule that your sins are sure to find you out. I holdhere an envelope to be delivered to Tomasso Slade--main geezer of theElks. Stand, Tomasso, so I can get a good shot at you! _Who sent themoney for Raymond Hollister to stay at camp till September?_" he shouted,suddenly. "And you thought you'd get away with it, didn't you--you bigsneak! Deny it at your peril! _Now_ I know where the profits from the_Friday Evening Pest_ went! There's a fellow--Rolly Culver, fromMontreal, Canada--who has _your_ number, all right! Deny the allegationand denounce the alligator, if you dare!"
Everybody stared at Tom, who was blushing right up to the roots of histowsled shock of rebellious hair.
"What do you mean?" said he, sullenly.
"Ah, well may you ask what I mean, Sherlock Nobody Holmes!" triumphedRoy, shaking the envelope exasperatingly in Tom's face. "I mean that youtried to beat Mr. John Temple to it--that's what I mean! And Rolly Culverfrom Canada FOILED you! See?"
"No, I don't," said Tom, glancing shamefacedly across the deck at littleRaymond and looking as if he had committed a crime.
"I mean it's good we hiked up there," said Roy, more seriously. "A checkgot there yesterday from Mr. Temp
le--a check for fifty bucks--mailed inthe West Indies. It was for Raymond to stay at camp till fall."
"Go-o-odni-ght!" exclaimed Will Bronson.
Garry stared, intensely interested.
"You ought to have heard Jeb tell about it," said Roy. "'When I see eshaow they follyed one anuther up,'" he went on, accurately mimicking Jeb."'I sez thar' must be sump'n wrong somewhar.' And just by chance," Roycontinued, "he hauled out of his old buckskin wallet the old crumpledpiece of paper that had come with the other money--the fifty buckarinosin cash--and it's lucky he happened to show it to that Culver kid,believe _me_! That fellow said it was the same writing as the writing onthe bulletin board at camp. Other fellows said, no; but he stuck to itand showed them how to compare curves and letters, and strokes and dotsand things--even straight lines--and there you are," concluded Roy,delightedly. "We all know who had charge of the bulletin board---- Andyou thought you'd make Mr. Temple the goat, didn't you, with your twotwenties and a ten! You thought he'd forgotten Raymond, didn't you. Andyou thought you'd get away with it! We've got your number, Tomasso, myboy, and we know why you've been wearing old gray flannel shirts and bookstraps, and things. Here you are--there's your fifty!" he concluded,throwing the envelope triumphantly in Tom's face. "It would have goneback to Mr. Temple if it hadn't been for Rolly Culver and me!"
There was no mistaking Roy's overwhelming delight, despite hisdenunciatory tone and he watched joyously as Tom, distressed anduncomfortable, in face of the whole troop's stare, tore open the envelopeand took out two twenties and a ten. For Roy had asked the camp trusteeswho cashed the check to return Tom's money in just the form in which hehad sent it, when, having seen the Temples start for South America, hehad gone to the post-office at home in Bridgeboro, and withcharacteristic disregard of the risk, had sent his whole savings in cashto Temple Camp, that nature might complete the good work she had begunfor little Raymond Hollister.
"I didn't think anybody'd find out," said Tom doggedly.
"No, I don't suppose you did," laughed Mr. Ellsworth.
"John Temple spoiled it for you," said Doc.
"You can't get the best of that man!" shouted Pee-wee. "There's no usetrying!"
"Tom," said Garry, simply, "I was always glad I turned Stanton over toyou, but now I'm gladder than ever. You can see yourself what you've donefor Raymond."
"Yes, and we can all see what kind of a pal Raymond has, too," Roy shotback. "You'll be leader of a swell patrol some day, Garry, or I miss myguess."
Garry only smiled. "All things come round to him who waits," said he.
"Come here, Tom," said Mr. Ellsworth. "If there was a merit badge forthis sort of thing you'd be a star scout tomorrow. Come over here, myboy."
There was the faintest reminder of the old hoodlum shuffle in Tom'sclumsy gait as he went sheepishly across the deck and leaned against theboat's rail near his scoutmaster, speechless, almost expressionless. Thebook-strap was drawn absurdly tight around his waist. The old, worn,faded gray flannel shirt that he wore was a sight. But upon the back ofit, such as it was, Mr. Ellsworth administered a resounding slap.
"That's what you meant by an invisible badge, hey?" said Westy, suddenly;"a good turn kept secret."
"I'm afraid none of us have quite understood Tom," said Mr. Ellsworth,simply. Then he turned and looked with the winningest smile at littleRaymond. "None of us have understood him, have we, Ray?"
"No, sir," said Raymond, timidly.
"And it shows us that being a scout means more than just wearing thescout suit, eh?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"You see, one can be a very good scout in a very ragged shirt, and hecan, if he wishes to, be a very punk scout in full khaki. You get me,Ray?"
"Ye-yes, sir."
"Well, then, what are we going to do about it?" Mr. Ellsworth askedpleasantly.
Garry understood, if Raymond did not, for he started the little fellowover toward Tom, and Tom took the timid hand and held it.
Then suddenly, in one of those freaks of impulse that Raymond sometimesshowed, he reached with his other hand and grasped Tom's arm. With thearm that was free Tom encircled the small, agitated form.
Raymond was crying like a baby.