The Norfolk boy scouts

XIX. Playing the Game

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. 297

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

“Gradually, forgetfulness stole over him” . . Frontispiece

FACING

PAQH

“Tire out! Fire out! Fire out!' he screamed at the top of his lungs” 44

“The two boys rushed blindly for their only hope of safety” 194

“With a thrill both of horror and hope, he . . . felt

it all over with his blistered hands” 302

Chapter I Flunked!

R AYMOND E. CLARK, JR., age thirteen, rose from his seat in the school ^ examination room, walked up the aisle to the teacher’s desk, and handed in his examination paper. Then he took up his cap and a couple of school books from the table where they had lain during the last hour and a half, and went quietly out into the corridor, closing the door carefully behind him.

He had scarcely reached the front porch of the grammar school building when he was joined by another boy of about his own age, but slighter and with rather light yellow hair. Ray’s own hair was a dark red — almost black 1

• — and he had a small, but not very noticeable, colony of freckles around the upper part of his nose.

4 ‘Hello, Ray!” greeted the newcomer.

“ Hello,’ ’ returned Ray, not very enthusiastically. Cicely, or Sissy, Smith was his cousin and lived next door to him, but beyond that the two boys really had very little in common. Ray was strong for his age, very vigorous and daring, and fond of strenuous sports. Sissy was a frailer, quieter boy with a liking for study which Ray did not possess. Until he had joined Troop Two of the Norfolk Boy Scouts, Sissy had been bashful, reserved, and even timid.

“Wasn’t the geography exam, a cinch!” he continued joyfully.

“Glad you think so!” responded Ray. “I flunked it.”

“What!” cried Sissy in astonishment. “Why, it was dead easy!”

“I couldn’t answer more than seven out of the !en questions — and two of those weren’t right.”

‘ ‘ Why, what was the matter with you ? ’ ’ asked Sissy. “I answered the whole ten without half 2

FLUNKED!

trying; and I could have done more if there ’d been any. Were you sick?”

‘ 4 My head ached so I couldn ’t think straight, ’ ’ returned Ray gloomily. “I must have eaten something last night that didn ’ t like me. Maybe it was the ice-cream sodas down at Joe the Guinea’s. I drank six of them in twenty minutes on a dare.”

“If you’ve really flunked it, you won’t be able to get into high school next fall with the rest of the crowd, will you?” pursued Sissy.

“No,” responded Ray. “I flunked it all right!”

“Then you won’t be able to play on the Norfolk High football team either,” continued the other, whose interests in athletics were keen, although rather unscientific.

“I don’t care anything about that!” remarked Ray, unguardedly.

“You don’t!” exclaimed Sissy. “Why, I thought you were crazy about it ! ”

“So I am; but there’s something else too.”

“What’s that?” inquired Sissy, whose principal failing was inquisitiveness.

Ray did not mind being confidential with bis cousin.

i 1 Well, you know how father’s fixed for money,” he finally said. “I won’t be able to go to college now.”

“Why won’t you? It will be one year later, that’s all.”

“That’s the trouble. I won’t be able to finish until after I’m twenty-one, and I’ve got to be supporting myself by that time.”

“You’ll have three years of it though, anyway,” declared Sissy, with the conscious superiority of one who had never been known to flunk an exam. “That ought to be enough. ’ ’

“Well, it isn’t! I was going to take the course in mining engineering, and that’s a fouryear course.”

“What do you want to take an old thing like that for?” inquired Sissy, whose own tastes lay along artistic or clerical lines. “You’d have to work like the dickens ! ’ ’

“That’s why I want it,” returned Ray.

Sissy opened his mouth in astonishment.

“You like work!” he cried. 4 ‘Say, that’s a good one ! ’ ’

FLUNKED!

Ray looked at him with the air of an exasperated St. Bernard dog regarding a toy spaniel who has offended him.

4 4 What do you mean?” he finally asked.

4 4 If you’re so fond of work why don’t you study once in a while?” demanded Sissy, with the freedom of a cousin. 4 4 You never do any jobs around the house if you can help it, either ! ’ ’

4 4 That sort of thing isn’t real work!” answered Ray, contemptuously. 44 I want to do something worth while ! ’ ’

4 4 Well, there are lots of other things besides engineers,” went on Sissy. 4 4 There are doctors, and lawyers, and ministers, and ”

4 4 Bosh ! ’ ’ retorted Ray expressively. 4 4 They don ’t count. Engineering is a man ’s sized job!”

4 4 Your other uncle has a mine out in Mexico, or some place, hasn’t he?” questioned Sissy. 4 4 Why don’t you go out there and learn?”

4 4 Father wouldn ’t let me, ’ ’ replied Ray. 4 4 Besides, you’ve got to get the training first to be any good.”

4 4 How are you going to get it if you can’t go to college?” questioned Sissy, pertinently.

“I don’t know!” confessed Ray. “But I’m going to get it somehow!”

“Maybe Uncle Dick would let you go out to Mexico, if you asked him nicely,” suggested Sissy. “That would be better than nothing — and it would be good fun, too.”

“You bet it would be great sport!” agreed Ray enthusiastically. “..Only I’m pretty sure father wouldn’t let me. He thinks I’m not old enough to take care of myself, I guess. Hello ! What’s up?”

A badly frightened child of five or six years of age was running towards them, screaming with terror. Close at its heels came a large mongrel dog, snapping and frothing at the mouth. Behind him again, but at a safe distance, was a small mob of excited people, waving sticks and brooms and shouting, “Mad dog!”

Just as they came abreast of Ray and his companion, the child glanced back over its shoulder, saw that the dog was almost upon it, and with another terrorized scream attempted to dodge. Instead, it tripped on a slightly projecting paving stone and went sprawling.

Ray was both impetuous and courageous.

FLUNKED!

With one bound, he sprang forward, snatched up the child, tossed it to a place of safety, and then flung himself sharply to one side to escape the onrushing animal.

Sissy Smith was neither impetuous nor courageous by nature. His Boy Scout training, however, stood him in good stead. As soon as he realized the danger, he almost instinctively stripped off his coat; and as the dog checked itself sharply to turn upon Ray, he flung the coat over the animal's head. Then he gave a well-directed kick under the jaw and the beast fell limp onto the sidewalk. A policeman, who had been among the crowd of pursuers, came up and put an end to things with his revolver.

Ray Clark had picked himself up quickly. Now he turned to Sissy.

“Let’s get out of here before all this gang comes up,” he proposed.

Sissy followed him at a run around the nearest corner. Then Ray looked at him almost with respect.

“That was a pretty good trick!” he declared. “Where did you learn it?”

“Boy Scouts,” replied Sissy promptly. 1 ‘ They teach us a whole lot of things like that . 9 9 7

Ray, without really knowing much about it, had conceived a good, healthy contempt for Boy Scouts — partly because Sissy belonged to them.

“Aw, they aren’t any good!” he remarked scornfully. “They’re just a bunch of mollycoddles!”

“They are not!” retorted Sissy angrily, for him. “They’re a nice crowd of fellows!”

“What good are they?” asked Ray scornfully. 6 ‘ They can ’t do anything ! ’ ’

“Yes, they can, too!” defended Sissy. “They do lots of things that you can’t!”

“I’d like to see them; that’s all!”

“How about Perry Brett?” inquired Sissy. Perry was one of the best all-around athletes at the Norfolk High School. Ray considered.

“Perry’s all right,” he finally acknowledged. “But he’s the only one.”

“How about Chet Richards, and Chip Williams, and Don Niles, and a few of those fellows ? ’ ’ continued the other, naming three of the Patrol Leaders of the troop.

Just then, they reached the house where Ray lived, and the latter cut off the conversation by turning in at the gate.

FLUNKED!

“See you later,’ ’ was his only response.

“What are you going to do now?” inquired Sissy.

“I don’t know!” replied Ray shortly, the recollection of the flunked examination and all that it meant coming back to him. “Maybe I’ll go for a swim.”

“I’ll come along too, if I can,” offered Sissy.

“You won’t come with me!” responded Ray crossly.

“Why not?” asked Sissy, who was used to these occasional outbursts of temper on the part of his impetuous cousin, and who was not so much offended as hurt by them.

‘ ‘ Because I say so ! ” snapped Ray.

He went rather noisily up to his own room, slammed the door behind him, and sat down to think the matter over. His great ambition was to become a mining engineer, like his uncle. Now he was apparently cut off from it.

“I wish I hadn’t drunk those old sodas!” he declared angrily.

Ray was by nature a fighter. Also, he wanted to do things when he grew up. And engineering was what he wanted to do them in.

“I’m not going to give it up, either !” he told himself. “I’ll be an engineer yet!”

But how? He sat for a long time, thinking it over and over.

Sissy Smith waited around outside for some time, in the hope that his cousin would reappear and let him join him. Finally, he went down alone to the swimming beach on the bank of the river.

Several boys were already in the cool water when he arrived, and one of them called out :

“ Where ’s Ray Clark?”

“He said he was coming; but he didn’t!” Sissy shouted back. ‘ ‘ I guess he ’s mad because he flunked that exam, today.”

“Gee, did he flunk that !” exclaimed the other, whose name was Chalmers, vulgarly called “Clam,” Jamieson. “Why, I thought it was a cinch!”

“Ray said he was feeling sick,” volunteered Sissy. “I thought it was a cinch too!”

“He’ll feel sicker after we get hold of him!” promised another, whose name was Dick Reynolds. “We’ll guy the life out of him!”

“I’ll bet that’s why he was afraid to show up here today!” added a rather frail-looking 10

FLUNKED!

boy, who was the younger brother of Chet Richards.

“We’ll do it tomorrow, instead!” remarked Chet himself, who was well-built and had an obstinate jaw.

“Not if I know it!” declared Harry Richards, who being younger was more timid. “I don’t want to get Ray Clark after me!”

“What’s the harm?” inquired Dick Reynolds, who was a good fighter and rather inclined to be aggressive. 4 4 He can’t do any more than kill you. What are you scared of?”

4 4 Let him kill you then, if you like it so much!” retorted Harry, whose disposition to talk back sometimes got him into trouble. 4 4 I’ll be the referee.”

“I wish he would lick you,” broke in Chet, who did not always carry the spirit of the Scout Law into his family affairs. 4 4 It would take some of the sass out of you!”

4 4 If he doesn’t lick you, I will!” offered Dick Reynolds, making a sudden spring at him through the water.

4 4 You just leave me alone!” cried Harry, who had earned the reputation of being a scared-cat. “I’ll tell my father on you!”

Dick Reynolds, instead of jumping upon Harry, only splashed him with water.

4 4 Don’t he a baby,” he declared.

It was a hot day in late June, and the water of the river — a large one which flowed past Norfolk, Riverview, Portland, and a few other towns on its journey to the sea — was cooling, if not over-clean. Until the sun had sunk low, the boys, most of them members of the same scout troop, splashed around and did stunts. Then a loud whistle blew from somewhere nearby, and Chet Richards, who was the Patrol Leader of his patrol, started for the shore.

“That’s the factory whistle,” he announced. “It’s getting late.”

Rather reluctantly the boys dressed themselves and, in due course of time, started for home. Sissy Smith, who had an errand to do in town, said good-by to the others and set out for the grocery store. The errand done, he walked homeward, whistling carelessly. Just before he had reached his own home, he saw a boy, whom he thought he recognized as Ray Clark, climb over the high board fence at the rear and disappear from sight around the corner of a neighboring barn.

Chapter II

P ERRY BRETT, Donald Niles, Chester Richards, Kenneth Williams, Nelson Weekes, and Russell Goddard, the six Patrol leaders of Troop Two, Norfolk, were standing in a group outside the Richards’ house on Grove Street discussing plans for the activities of the Troop during the summer vacation, when a small boy in Scout uniform came around the nearest street corner on a run, pulled up three paces distant, and saluted Chet Richards, who was the leader of the Bucktail Patrol.

‘ 4 Well, what’s the matter with you, Scout Thomas ? ’ ’ inquired Chet. ‘ ‘ Anything doing ? ’ ’ Artie Thomas, the youngest member of the Patrol, paused for a moment to partly recover his breath. Then he answered:

‘ ‘ Well, I just guess yes! Ray Clark has run away from home and all the Scouts in the city 13 have been ordered to go on a search for him — if their parents are willing.’ ’

The six older boys crowded around.

“ What’s that?” asked Perry Brett, the Senior Patrol Leader. “How? When?”

“Yesterday afternoon sometime. He left a note saying that he was going out to Mexico to fight Indians, or something. Nobody’s seen him since the geography exam.”

“I’ll bet he flunked it and ran away because he was afraid his father would lick him,” hazarded Chet Richards.

“Aw, he doesn’t mind a licking!” declared Harry Richards, his brother. Harry was two years younger than Chet and was not even an Assistant Patrol Leader, but he was with the group because he did not want to be left out of anything in which Chet had a part.

“He went to Mexico to fight Indians,” repeated Artie.

“Everbody knows there aren’t any good Indians in the West any more — except in moving picture shows,” stated Chip Williams wisely. “I’ll bet that wasn’t the real reason.”

“He told me once that he wanted to be a mining engineer when he grew up,” announced 14

Perry. “ Maybe he just got tired of school and thought he could get a job in Mexico/ ’

“I heard once that his uncle owns a mine or something/’ informed Baby Goddard, who was responsible for the behavior of the Bullfrog Patrol and whose nickname arose from his round face and innocent, trusting eyes. Beyond that the resemblance stopped abruptly.

“Probably that’s it then,” continued Perry. “He’s going out to get a job with his uncle. Gee ! Won’t he have a dandy time when he gets there!”

A shrill whistle sounded down the street. Harry Richards, always anxious to have a hand in things, turned to see who it was. Then he sent an answering whistle and waved his arm. “It’s Lloyd Smith,” he explained.

Soon the newcomer was within hailing distance of the group.

“Hello, Sissy!” greeted Chip Williams.

“Hello yourself, and see how you like it!” responded the other, whose full name was Lloyd Percival Cicely Smith. “Heard about Ray Clark?”

“Sure we have,” stated Harry. “He’s run away from home.”

“And I saw him go, too!” declared Sissy, fully alive to the importance of the announcement.

“You did!” cried Perry Brett. “How do you know?”

“Well, he had some sort of a bundle in his hand and he wouldn’t stop when I yelled at him.”

“Which way did he go?” questioned Harry immediately.

“Shut up, kid!” commanded Chet. “You aren’t a Patrol Leader.”

Harry, who was rather jealous of his brother’s natural superiority of two years and who tried to make up for it by doing his best to have a voice in things whether they concerned him or not, looked grieved.

“What’s the good of being a Patrol Leader if you don’t know enough to ask questions?” he demanded.

“Never you mind,” returned Chet, mindful of the fifth Scout Law. “Which way did he go?” he added.

“He skinned over the back fence and went around the corner of Morriss’s barn. I don’t know what became of him after that. ’ ’

“Why didn’t you follow him?” commented the persistent Harry. “You’re a fine Scout, you are!”

“How did I know he was running away?” defended Sissy.

Artie Thomas had been waiting, rather impatiently, for a chance to get in a remark. Now he spoke up.

“The Scout Commissioner has sent word to all the Scout Masters to have their troops ready to set off on the search tomorrow morning,” he proclaimed. “They say Ray’s mother is sick and we’ve got to get hold of Ray and bring him back as soon as we can, or she may get sicker. Mr. Stead met me in the street about a half an hour ago and told me to hunt you fellows up, and for each of you to get his patrol together and be around at the Club House this evening at the usual time to receive instructions.”

“All right, fellows!” exclaimed the Senior Patrol Leader. “Eight o’clock sharp! Everybody look after his own patrol!”

The next moment, the street in front of the Richards’ was deserted, except for an icewagon, and six excited Patrol Leaders were 17 scattering in as many different directions to Imnt np the other Scouts of the troop.

By quarter before eight that evening, thirtyone Scouts were assembled in the airy, but nevertheless hot, parish hall of the church, which they used for a club house; and by eight o’clock twelve others had arrived. Only five members of the entire Troop — all Tenderfeet — were missing, and of the forty-three boys forty — five complete patrols — had written consents from their parents or guardians that they might join in the search for the runaway boy wherever it might lead them and for any reasonable length of time.

A few minutes after eight Mr. Stead, their Scout Master — a well-built, dark-complexioned man who was also Physical Director of the Norfolk High School — mounted the slightly raised platform at the further end of the hall and addressed them.

“I guess most of you understand the situation pretty well, ’ ’ he began in a clear, businesslike voice. “A boy — Raymond Clark, whom many of you doubtless know — has run away from home. Apparently, he was discouraged because he failed to pass the entrance examinar 18 tions for the high school and foolishly decided to go West — to Mexico.’ ’

“Did he go there to shoot Indians?” inquired Sissy Smith who, although a mild-mannered and even rather timid hoy, had a sneaking fondness for the blood-thirsty. Mr. Stead smiled.

“No; not quite that. His idea seems to have been to try to get employment with some mining engineering concern; as that was what he wished to take up for his life work. He failed to realize that he was hurting his own chances by not getting as much education and training as possible before actually making a start. It is the trained man who wins out.”

“But, Mr. Stead, why wouldn’t a fellow get the training in a place like that better than here?” asked Harry Richards, ignoring his brother’s whispered order to shut up.

“For several reasons. The chief one is that he is too young and has not had sufficient general education. The gravest part of the matter, however, is that he has left home without his parents’ consent and that his mother has been made seriously ill by the shock. It is feared that she may become worse unless we can bring 19 the boy back to her, or at least give her some definite news concerning him.”

“ Maybe he’s somewhere in Norfolk still,” hazarded Perry Brett.

“We are inclined to think that the chances are rather against it. However, our first duty will he to make a systematic and thorough search of Norfolk and the suburbs, a section of which will be assigned to each Patrol. The police, of course, will do their part.”

Chet Richards rose to his feet and gave the Scout salute.

“Well, Patrol Leader Richards, what is it?” asked the Scout Master.

“It seems to me, sir, that it would be better if we were divided into half-patrols, under the Patrol Leader and the Assistant. Then the fellows could spread out more and whoever was in charge of a squad would have only three fellows to look after and get reports from, instead of seven. That ought to make it easier all around.”

“I think the whole Patrol ought to keep together,” announced Harry, as his brother sat down again. “That would be the best way . 9 9

“Shut up, kid!” exclaimed Chet angrily. “You’re too fresh!”

Mr. Stead wisely took no notice of this little family difference of opinion.

“We can probably do as Patrol Leader Richards suggests in our preliminary scouting around the city,” he observed. “After we begin to search the country, however, it would hardly do for the members of a Patrol to be too widely scattered. For one thing, when it came to camping out overnight it would hardly be safe for less than eight to be together.”

“Will we camp out in the open all night?” queried a voice in some surprise.

“It looks very much like it. Unless we find some trace of the Clark boy in or near the city it will be our duty to hunt for him through the surrounding country ; and to keep up the search until you receive orders to return. That, of course, will mean camping out all night and also doing your own cooking. You will all go fully prepared for such a trip, with blanket rolls, ponchos, a certain amount of food, necessary cooking utensils, and so forth. If you were to return to your own home each night, it would be impossible for you to make a really 21 careful search beyond a radius of, say, two miles or so. You will have to keep a watch during the night at your encampments to provide against surprise by tramps or other undesirable characters; and it will probably mean that not one of you will see a bed or get a good square meal of home cooking for at least two weeks. ’ ’

“Thunder !” exclaimed Harry Richards who, much as he loved having a hand in things, loved comfort even more. “I don’t believe I’ll go.”

“You’ll be a little squealer if you don’t!” retorted Chet, who had overheard him.

“How far have we got to go to hunt for Ray?” questioned Perry Brett.

“The plan is to explore the country hereabouts thoroughly, as it is thought very probable that the Clark boy will try in some way to earn enough money to pay his railroad fare out West. He had only a comparatively small amount of his own to take away with him. We rather expect to find him in one of the villages near Norfolk where he is not known, but the intervening country will nevertheless be carefully and methodically searched. Doing a thing thoroughly — provided it is worth while doing at 22 all — is one of the fundamental principles of success in Scout work or anything else.”

Sissy Smith stood up and saluted.

“ Please, sir,” he ventured when he had gained the Scout Master’s attention. “I live right next door to Ray Clark, and I saw him going off yesterday afternoon with a bundle under his arm.”

Several of the boys stared at Sissy with interest, but Mr. Stead did not appear to be very much impressed.

“I am afraid that information will not do us any particular good,” he remarked. ‘ ‘We already know that he has left home and even if we were sure of the general direction which he took it would not give us any really definite clue as to where he may be now.”

“I should think the Scout troops of the other villages, like Portland, would have been told to be on the lookout for him,” declared Harry, ignoring Chet’s glance.

“They have been,” informed Mr. Stead patiently. “We are to have the cooperation of the Scout troops, as well as the police, of all the neighboring towns. Posters will shortly be sent out giving an accurate description of the 23 runaway and all other necessary particulars concerning him. The Norfolk troops, however, will first search the city and then the surrounding country for a radius of twenty or twenty-five miles. Beyond that, the matter must be turned over to the police or other Scout troops, acting independently. The chances are, however, that the missing boy will be found somewhere within the twenty-five mile zone which we are to search; as it is thought very probable that he will try to get employment at some place comparatively near Norfolk where he is not known.”

“What parts of the city are we to hunt in tomorrow V’ inquired Dick Reynolds. Dick was the Assistant Patrol Leader of the Bucktail Patrol, of which Chet and Harry Richards, Sissy Smith, and Artie Thomas were also members. Chet Richards was the Patrol Leader, but Dick was giving him a good fight for the position at the annual Troop elections the coming Fall. For this reason, Harry Richards, who besides being jealous of Chet had a natural grudge against him as a result of his elder brother’s efforts to live up to the third Scout law by bringing him up properly, chummed up 24 with Dick and always seconded him in any dispute between the Patrol Leader and his Assistant.

“Hope it will be over by City Hall Park,” declared Harry Richards audibly. “Then we can have some fun feeding peanuts to the squirrels. ’ ’

“Shut up!” commanded Chet, in a voice which could be overheard by all those sitting nearby. “ Well take what we get.”

“Aw, shut up yourself!” retorted Harry, still more loudly. “You think you’re the whole show ! 9 9

“The sections which have been allotted to our troop are all in this part of the town,” announced Mr. Stead, breaking in upon this brotherly exchange of compliments. “I will adopt Patrol Leader Richards’ suggestion that it be sub-divided and a half -patrol assigned to each section. I will instruct the Patrol Leaders and the Assistant Patrol Leaders with respect to this at the close of the meeting. You will start on the search immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning and will continue it until about six o’clock in the evening, returning to your homes for dinner. Your lunches you will 25 take with you or get at the time. Do you all understand what I have just been telling you?”

“Yes, sir!” came the reply from different parts of the hall.

“Then the meeting will adjourn. Patrol Leaders and Assistant Patrol Leaders will remain behind for further instructions. ’ ’

“Gee, this is going to be great sport!” declared Lyle Roberts, a member of the Mongoose Patrol, as the Scouts swarmed out of the building with a buzz of excited conversation.

Harry Richards, still somewhat grouchy at his brother’s remarks during the course of the day, went directly home and tied a few of Chet’s favorite neckties in hard knots to vent his feelings, and then went to bed.

It was after ten o’clock when Chet entered the room which he and Harry shared together, touched a match to the gas, and began undressing. Harry was already fast asleep, but when the light was turned on he opened his eyes and gave a growl.

“Can’t you come in without waking a fellow up?” he demanded crossly.

“Oh dry up!” retorted Chet. “You’ll get all 26 the sleep you need before starting off on the hike tomorrow.”

“I’m not going on any old hike!” was the response. Chet dropped his collar and necktie in astonishment.

“You mean you aren’t going with the rest of us on the hunt for Ray Clark!”

“That’s what I mean.”

“Why not?” demanded Chet sharply.

“Because I don’t want to, that’s why.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“I don’t, that’s all. It’s none of your business anyway.”

“You’ve got to go,” stated Chet. “All the Scouts who are able to go have been ordered on the search, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I’m not going just the same! I’ve got a pain in my side and mother wouldn’t want me to if she knew about it.”

“Pain in your side nothing!” exclaimed Chet. “You’re just too lazy to go — or else you’re afraid.”

“I am not afraid!” returned Harry angrily. “WTiat would I be afraid of?”