Don Strong, Patrol Leader | Page 3

don't see any wings on you or Alex," Tim cried wrathfully. "What kind of a game is this?"
Don said nothing. What was the use, he thought. He walked on; and after a moment Tim stood still and let him go his way.
Next morning a letter came from the Scout Scribe announcing the terms of the contest for the Scoutmaster's Cup. The competition would start at Friday night's meeting. For each scout present a patrol would be awarded a point, while for each scout absent it would lose a point. Another point would be lost for each scout who came to meeting with buttons off his uniform, or with scout pin missing, or with hair uncombed, or shoes muddy. Any patrol that did not live up to its orders from the Scoutmaster would be penalized from five to ten points. At the end of the first month there would be a contest in advanced first aid, and points would be awarded to the patrols that came in first and second.
Don read the letter twice and sat on one of the wooden horses and stared at the ground. His sister Barbara, anxious to show a berry cake, had to call to him three times before he heard her.
"What's the matter, Don?" she asked.
"Tim Lally wants to be patrol leader," he answered.
"Oh!" Barbara gave him a quick, understanding look.
Tim did not have a word to say to him that afternoon. Next day he worked steadily helping his father on a rush order and did not get to the field at all. When the work was done, he went upstairs and washed, dressed in his scout uniform and came down to the dining-room.
Barbara came in from the kitchen to set the table. "Hungry?" she asked. Then, after a moment: "Isn't Tim your catcher on the town team?"
Don nodded.
Barbara put her head close to his. "Scouting isn't all fun, is it?"
"It wouldn't be worth shucks if it was," Don said stoutly. And yet, as he walked toward troop headquarters after supper, his steps were slow.
The command "Attention," came from Mr. Wall's lips as he entered the meeting place. He hurriedly joined his patrol. The color guard and the troop bugler stepped to the front, and the brassy notes of "To the Colors" rose and fell. Standing stiffly at salute, the troop pledged allegiance to the flag, and repeated the scout oath. The bugler stepped back to the ranks.
Slowly Mr. Wall made his tour of inspection. When it was finished, the scouts waited breathlessly. For the first time Don noticed a small blackboard nailed against the wall:
PATROL POINTS
Eagle Fox Wolf
"The Eagle patrol," Mr. Wall said, "has one scout absent and two scouts untidy--thirteen points."
The Scout Scribe wrote the points upon the board.
"The Fox patrol, all scouts present and two scouts-untidy--fourteen points. The Wolf patrol a perfect score--sixteen points."
Silence in the patrols.
"Break ranks," the Scoutmaster ordered.
Instantly there was a babel of excited talk. Scouts who had cost their patrols points through untidiness were upbraided by their comrades. Andy caught Don's arm.
"We're off in the lead," he chuckled.
"It's staying in the lead that counts," said Don.
The shrill of Mr. Wall's whistle brought the scouts to attention again.
"Tonight we take up the theory of building a bridge with staves and cords," the Scoutmaster said. "The Fox patrol was to have provided two logs."
The Fox patrol hustled outdoors and returned in a moment with their burden.
The scouts set to work to build a bridge from one log to the other. Mr. Wall walked about, watching but offering no advice. After an hour the bridge was completed.
"Scouts Lally and Davidson," said Mr. Wall, "see if it will hold you."
Tim and Alex stepped out on the structure. It held. A cheer started and died. For the bridge was sagging. Abruptly it gave.
"Ten minutes for examination to see where the fault lies." The Scoutmaster took out his watch. "Next meeting we'll try again."
Ten minutes later the lashings were untied, the staves were back in their wall racks, and the logs were outdoors. Each scout was sure he knew just what was wrong with that bridge and no two scouts agreed.
"Squat!" came the next order.
There was a rush for camp stools piled in a corner. Still grouped by patrols, the scouts faced Mr. Wall.
"The Wolf patrol," he said, "is to select a new leader. So long as Patrol Leader Morris will not serve under his successor, the Council of Patrol Leaders feels that he should not vote in this election. The Scout Scribe will distribute pencils and paper. Each member of the Wolf patrol will write the name of his candidate. When I call his name, he will deposit his ballot, folded, in my hat. The patrol leaders will count the ballots."
Don's throat was dry. When he received his paper and pencil his hand