Woodcraft: or, How a Patrol Leader Made Good

CHAPTER V.
THE MEETING IN THE OLD WAGON SHOP

"About time to begin business, don't you think, Mark?" asked Elmer Chenowith.

"Just about on the minute; and I've been counting noses, Mr. Scout-master; there are eighteen fellows present – not a single gap in the line," answered his chum.

"That's fine. We'll get our four new members through to-night, and have two complete patrols, with a third well started. Suppose you sound the assembly, Mark, and we'll close the doors. While the Hickory Ridge Troop of Boy Scouts doesn't pretend to be a secret society, there's no reason why we should have every Tom, Dick, and Harry gaping in at us, and listening to all we say."

Elmer and his closest chum, Mark Cummings, were standing inside the old abandoned wagon-maker's shop that for long years had been a landmark at the crossroads just outside the town of Hickory Ridge.

Half a dozen and more lighted lanterns hanging from beams or the low rafters dissipated the darkness of the cobwebby interior; for the once busy shop had been deserted some years now.

A bustling, laughing, chattering crowd of half-grown boys occupied the place; and all but four of them were clad in the customary olive drab khaki uniform of the scouts, met with in every part of this wide country, between the Pacific and the Atlantic, and from the Great Lakes of the north to the Mexican Gulf on the south.

Mark carried a bugle at his side, and was quite a genius as a musician. Indeed, there were few musical instruments he could not play; and when in camp the boys looked to him to enliven the evenings around their fire with bugle, banjo, or mandolin.

Another member of the troop was the official drummer; but as yet he had not secured an instrument on which to sound the long roll. But they lived in hopes of soon supplying this need, as there was good money in the treasury.

When the sweet, clear notes of the bugle sounded the assembly call, the chattering ceased. Obedience is one of the first principles inculcated in the breast of a scout; and Elmer, as the president of the association, had always insisted upon the meeting being conducted with a fair amount of decorum.

First came the roll call, when it was found that every member was present, showing that the meeting was deemed an especially important one.

True, several of the boys looked a bit tired, notably Jasper, who had hardly been able to get out of his chair after supper, and was obliged to exert more than the ordinary amount of will power before he could reach the place of meeting.

A little routine program was first of all gone through with, such as marked each meeting of the troop – a song that was patriotic in its character sung, with considerable vim, for there were some really good voices present; after which the commendable trait of patriotism was further carried along by a salute to the flag which stood at one end of the dingy old wheelwright's shop, where all eyes could fall upon its starry blue field and warm red stripes.

"I'm sorry to state," said Elmer, in opening the meeting, "that our capable scout-master was unable to be with us to-night, as a sudden business call took him to New York last night. So we'll have to conduct the exercises without him. And as the most important part of our meeting is the initiation of four new members who have lately expressed a desire to unite with the Hickory Ridge Troop of Boy Scouts, it would be in order for a motion that we proceed immediately to complete that function."

"I move, Mr. President, we go about that business," suggested "Lil Artha" Stansbury, who had curled his long legs under him, and managed to sit down on a low stool he had found somewhere; the balance of the boys being disposed of in all sorts of ways, some on worn wooden "horses," others on blocks of wood, makeshift benches, and even on the bare ground.

"Thecond the motion!" cried Ted Burgoyne, who often lisped, though he could never be convinced of the fact, and would everlastingly and vehemently deny it when accused.

Of course it was quickly carried; and the usual ceremonies having been gone through with, the four applicants were declared fairly elected members of the organization. Phil Dale became Number Five and George Robbins Number Six of the Wolf Patrol; while Henry Condit and "Landy" Smith filled the vacant numbers of the Beaver Patrol.

"This makes our two patrols complete," remarked Elmer. "It also increases our membership to eighteen. We need several more fellows of the right sort, and if any of you happen to know of any candidates, bring their names before the committee between now and the next regular meeting. But they must be boys of good moral character, who promise to make scouts worthy of the name."

"Hear! hear!" called out "Red" Huggins, grinning, as though he took this as a personal compliment.

"We can now proceed with the regular business before us. The new members will consult with Comrade Merriweather about their suits. But of course they understand that every cent must have been earned before they can wear the new clothes. That is one of the things we stand for – a scout must be independent, and able to do things for himself. It tends to make him manly and reliant."

"Mr. President," said the secretary, who was no other than the tall "Lil Artha," "I would like to inform the members of Hickory Ridge Troop that I have with me a collection of finished pictures, taken on our recent camping trip at Lake Solitude. Some of them are rather interesting, and will serve to revive pleasant, or unpleasant, memories. They can be seen after the meeting closes. Please excuse me for not rising, Mr. President. Fact is, I don't believe I could without help, for it seems as if my lower extremities had become locked."

There were numerous snickers at this, for it was a failing of the good-natured "Lil Artha" to get his long legs twisted in a knot; though, when he once started running, he could cover the ground at an amazing pace.

"I understand," remarked Matty Eggleston, the leader of the Beaver Patrol, getting up so suddenly from the swaying bench upon which he had been seated that it tilted the remaining three scouts backward, and deposited them on the ground, to the amusement of the assemblage – "I understand," he went on, not disturbed by the tragic occurrence, as the boys scrambled up, and began to brush themselves off, "that several of our number met with an interesting experience to-day while off on a hike. The rest of us would like very much to hear an account of what happened."

"Yes! yes! tell us the story, Mr. President! We all want to know!" came from a dozen of the lads, in one breath.

Elmer smiled encouragingly.

"If some one puts that in the form of a motion, and it is carried, perhaps between Comrades Larry, Jasper, and myself we might be able to spin the little yarn," he remarked.

Needless to say the motion was carried unanimously.

"Mr. President," said Larry, who was Number Six of the Beavers, "I suggest that you give your version of the little adventure. If necessary, Jasper and myself can dip in, and add some touches to it from time to time."

Nothing loath, for he had an object in letting the new recruits see what splendid chances there were for doing things in the scout organization, both for themselves and others, the acting scout-master started to tell how Larry and Jasper had conceived a laudable ambition to test their knowledge of woodcraft, and started out with the idea of putting it to the trial.

He pointed out their mistakes, and showed where they could have avoided them. He commended their pluck, and as he described the storm in the big timber more than a few of the listening boys fairly quivered with excitement. In imagination they could almost hear the terrific thunder, and see the giant trees swaying in the howling wind.

After Elmer had brought out a number of points that would serve as a valuable lesson to the tenderfoot scouts, and which he wanted to sink into their minds, he presently carried the story to the final stage by telling about their arrival at the farmhouse, where they found the family in great distress, and in need of help.

He made a particular point of telling how helpless Matt Tubbs had seemed, simply because he had never been instructed in the principles of "first aid to the injured"; and went on to show how very important it was for every true scout to know what to do in an emergency where human life was in peril.

When, finally, Elmer finished, there was a hearty cheer from the assembled lads. A number of questions were asked, which either the acting scout-master or one of his mates answered.

"But perhaps another time, comrades, Matt Tubbs may not feel so helpless as he did to-day," Elmer went on to say. "The fever has reached Fairfield, and we hear they are trying to organize a troop of scouts there, with Matt at the head. Let us hope, fellows, that when the Fairfield Troop becomes a fact, there may be a chance for the Hickory Ridge boys to renew their old-time rivalry with the neighboring town. For the rowdy spirit will have to give way to order and decency before Matt Tubbs and his cronies ever find themselves accepted as Boy Scouts."

"They never will do it!" cried Ty Collins, who had been the chief cook of the troop while in camp, and was known as one of the best athletes in Hickory Ridge.

"That's what I was saying to Elmer," echoed Larry Billings.

"Oh! well, you never can tell," laughed the leader. "I sometimes think none of us know just what Matt Tubbs might do, if once he took a notion to turn over a new leaf."

"Oh! he's just a regular bully, and that's all there is about it!" cried Nat Scott.

"I hope you won't say that again, Nat," remarked Elmer. "I know on the face of things people around Hickory Ridge think that, because Matt always started trouble when the two towns used to be rivals on the gridiron and the diamond. But over in Fairfield, fellows, they're not quite so sure about it. Perhaps all of you don't know that when a house burned down, and the firemen were afraid to rush in to save an old and infirm woman who was known to be inside, Matt Tubbs took his life in his hands and got her out! It was his own grandmother, but that makes no difference. I say that the fellow who would do that can't be all wrong; that he must have a spark, and a pretty big one, too, of decency in his make-up. Those are just the kind of fellows this scout movement can help. And I believe that if once they change about and face the other way, they're bound to make the best of scouts. Let's give Matt Tubbs a fair and square chance to make good!"

Considerable talk followed. Some of the boys were farsighted enough to grasp what Elmer believed so firmly. Others shook their heads in doubt. They fancied they knew Matt Tubbs like a book. He was no coward, they admitted such a fact, but as for him ever being able to subscribe to the twelve cardinal principles of a scout, why it was absurd; impossible!

"Water will run up-hill before that miracle ever happens!" declared Toby Jones, the boy who was forever dreaming about doing wonderful stunts with a flying machine which he expected some day to invent.

"I have no particular use foh the gentleman, suh!" remarked Chatz Maxfield, whose manners and ways of expressing himself easily betrayed his Southern birth.

So the meeting progressed, and was finally brought to a conclusion. Then there was considerable merriment as the scouts clustered about "Lil Artha," the official photographer, as he passed around some scores of splendidly executed prints. Quite a number of these were gems of art, and represented natural scenery around the mountain lake where the camp had been located. Others elicited roars of laughter, for Arthur had snapped off some pictures that perpetuated scenes of a comical nature.

The boys were enjoying the treat heartily, laughing, bandying remarks, poking fun at the victims who were now held up to public view, and mingling with perfect freedom, as the meeting had been adjourned, when something certainly not down on the bills came to pass.

It was as unexpected as a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. The photographer of the troop was gathering his pictures together, and those members who had kindly furnished the lanterns so that their temporary meeting-place might be illuminated in a seemly manner, were starting to secure their property, when, without any warning, there sounded a tremendous crash.

"What's that?" cried half a dozen of the scouts, as they looked at one another in dismay.

"I know!" shouted Jack Armitage, whose father owned the old smithy; "we've been spied on by some sneak; and he fell down off that rotten loft yonder. There he goes, fellows! After the spy!"

CHAPTER VI.
THE LITTLE RED BUTTON

A scene of commotion immediately followed these startling words of Jack Armitage. There was a rush for the exit, and in the confusion, just as might have been expected, the scouts became wedged in the doorway, so that there was a brief delay in gaining the open air.

Shouts outside presently told that some of the wiser ones had avoided this combined rush, and sought the open air by the same means taken by the unknown. They had just glimpsed some dim figure amid the cloud of dust that followed the breaking down of the frail floor of the little platform at the rear of the shop. It had vanished through some hole; possibly a board or two had been previously loosened with the idea of a hasty flight in case of discovery, to avoid unpleasant consequences.

Elmer and his chum, Mark Cummings, had not taken part in either the crush at the door, or the swift passage through the rear opening.

"Well, what d'ye think of that?" demanded Mark, turning to his chum, as the last of the jam at the door was broken, allowing the struggling scouts a chance to get through.

Elmer was laughing.

"Some of those fellows will feel a little sore after that football rush," he remarked; "you noticed that the wise ones chased after 'Lil Artha.' He was quick to see that there would be a crush at the door, and he went after the fellow, who lit out by the way of the back part of the shop. Here, let's take a look and see."

Picking up a lantern, he led the way to where they discovered a hole in the board wall of the place. Two of the shrunken boards had been lately wrenched loose; a very easy task indeed, for the old place was pretty near the point of ruin.

"Looks like he might have fixed it for use in case he wanted to vamoose in a big hurry," said Mark, after they had examined the boards.

"Perhaps he did," Elmer remarked. "Did you get a look at the chap, Mark? It just happened that some one stood between me and this part of the shop, and I couldn't see much more'n a lot of dust."

"Same here," laughed the other. "My! what a lot of dust he did stir up. I feel like I'm going to sneeze right now," which he proceeded to do with great vigor, to the amusement of his friend.

"Listen to the racket the boys are making out there," he observed, as shouts came floating in to them.

"Sounds like they were chasing after something," Mark went on, after listening. "Wonder if they can grab the fellow."

"Perhaps you'd better call them back with your bugle. No use breaking up in such a disorderly way. And if he's given them the slip up to now, they won't be able to find him in the dark. Step outside and sound the recall, Mark."

So the bugler hastened to obey orders, and the clear, penetrating notes of the signal floated near and far in the night air.

"Anybody could hear that a mile away, I guess," remarked the one who had sent forth the recall. "I suppose every scout will know what it means and come back?"

"Well, that would be queer if they didn't," declared Elmer. "Here comes a bunch right now, talking and arguing over the mysterious happening. All sorts of ideas will be given, and we ought to try and find out the truth."

"What do you think?" asked Mark, pointedly. "Was it a hobo who had been sleeping here in the old shop? I've heard Jack say his father threatened to burn the shanty down because complaints came in about it being a lodging place for tramps."

"Yes," replied Elmer, who looked serious, "I've heard the same thing. But between you and me, Mark, I've got my suspicions that it couldn't have been just a common hobo."

"What makes you think that?" asked his chum.

"Oh! several things. I don't see why a tramp would go to all the bother to climb up on that old shelf or loft, when he could just as well stay right here on the ground, and make a fire in the regular place, so as to cook his supper. Then no tramp would have lain there all that time without making a sound. Besides, you remember we made up our minds that the boards had been loosened in the back of the shop, so they could be knocked off with a single kick. That would point to strategy – making ready for a sudden get-away."

"Elmer, you're right, I do believe, as you nearly always are," said Mark, as if what his comrade said had sunk with conviction into his mind. "But here come the boys. Let's find out what they think about it."

"Yes," continued the acting scout-master, "perhaps they've sighted the fellow, and can tell us who he was."

But this proved not to be the case. Those who had followed "Lil Artha" through the opening in the rear of the shop declared that the fugitive must have had the wings of the wind, for though they had chased after him, he managed to give them the slip. Possibly the long-legged Arthur might have been more successful, had he been given daylight to enable him to see where he was going; but at the time the bugle sounded the retreat they had not been able to cut down the other's lead.

Nor could they tell what he looked like.

"Some stray Wandering Willie, sure as you're born," declared Toby Jones, who was panting at a great rate after his chase.

"And if we'd only been able to come up with him, wouldn't he have got it?" remarked Red Huggins, ferociously.

"Alas! I was cheated out of a thlick job, that's what, fellowth," lamented Dr. Ted, whose sole ambition it was to run across "opportunities" to experiment with his knowledge of medicine, or attempt simple surgical operations.

"See here, you're only guessing when you say it was a hobo; what proof is there of such a thing?" demanded Elmer.

"Hey, what's that?" exclaimed "Lil Artha," staring at the acting scout-master.

"That's exactly what I was saying to Chatz as we were prancing along back here," Larry Billings remarked, nodding his head as if he agreed with Elmer.

"Some think it was a tramp, and the rest say it was a spy. Now, how are we going to prove it?" asked Tom Cropsey.

"Let Elmer tell what he thinks, fellows," Mark observed. "He convinced me right off the reel, and perhaps he can the rest of the bunch."

"Yes, Elmer, it's up to you to make good. Tell us what you know. We're wanting to learn all the tricks of a scout who keeps his eyes always open, and sees the little things that count. Please tell us!"

So, beset from every side, Elmer had to bow to the popular will. After he had explained how several strong points seemed to dispose of the theory of a tramp having been hidden in the loft of the deserted wheelwright's shop, he saw that he had carried pretty much all his audience with him. The scouts hung on his every word, for they understood that Elmer had passed through considerable experience while out on that big Canada ranch and farm with his father, and knew how to read signs as well as any Indian ever could have done.

"I've just been up there and discovered how the rotten timbers gave way under the fellow," spoke up Nat Scott, who was known to be of a very investigating turn, and would let nothing continue to puzzle him long, if he could help it.

"Yes, we saw you drop down through the same hole he made," laughed Ty Collins.

"You're covered with dust, too, Nat," remarked Tom Cropsey.

"That's a fact," grinned the investigator.

Elmer had his eye on him. He judged that Nat must have made some sort of discovery, for he looked pleased. He also noted the fact that the other kept one hand behind him as he stood there.

"You found something, didn't you, Nat?" he asked, quietly.

"Well, sure thing," remarked the other; though he looked somewhat surprised at Elmer being able to discover this fact so readily.

"Which you're hiding behind you right now, I opine," continued the scout-master.

"That's what he is, Elmer!" declared several of the other scouts.

"Did you find it on the ground among those broken pieces of flooring?" asked Elmer, pointedly.

Nat nodded his head rigorously, but he made no effort to bring his right hand out from behind his back.

"Perhaps now," continued the other slowly, but with a positive ring to his voice, "it might happen to be a hat or a cap you picked up?"

"That's right, it's a cap," broke in Jasper Merriweather, who had slipped behind Nat, and glimpsed at what he was trying to keep hidden.

"Wait, I'm going to turn my back on you, Nat, while you hold it up so all the rest can see. Now, out with it. Take a good look, fellows. Jasper said it was a cap. Does it belong to anybody here?"

"Why, we've all got our regular scout hats, except the four new members, and every one of them has a cap on his head right now!" declared Jack Armitage.

"Just so," Elmer continued. "That settles one thing; this cap you picked up must belong to the fellow who ran away, after listening to all we did at our meeting! Take a good look at that cap, Nat. Is it a sort of mixed gray in color and pretty well worn?"

"Say, that's what it just is now, Elmer," replied the other in surprise.

"And has it got a red button fastened in front just over the peak?"

"Hey, listen to him tell, will you, fellows. Here's the red button all right."

"Then the mystery is solved," laughed Elmer; "for that cap belongs to a certain boy we happen to know right well; and his name is Matt Tubbs!"