Don Strong, Patrol Leader | Page 6

Lally."
Silence.
All at once an uneasy feeling crept around the table. Alex forgot his
business adventures of the day and glanced quickly from face to face.
"Tim may come later," he said.
Don looked at Bobbie. "Did you tell him?"
Bobbie nodded.
"What did he say?"
"N--nothing."

Every scout knew at once that Tim had said something. Don shut his
lips tightly.
"I guess Tim forgot," Andy suggested.
Don grasped at this straw. Not that he believed it, for he didn't; but it
gave him a chance to ease the tension. He forced a smile and said that
Tim might come bolting in at the last minute. The moment the roll call
was completed, he turned the talk to the Scoutmaster's Cup. He didn't
want to give the scouts a chance to sit there and think.
"We're in the lead now," he said, "and it's up to us to stay there. It will
be easy if every fellow will do his part. Attend every meeting and come
ready for inspection. When Mr. Wall gives us a job to do as a patrol, let
us dig in and do it right. And let us work hard so that we'll stand a good
chance of winning the monthly contests."
"The first contest is easy," said Ritter. "We all know our first aid."
"We know it," said Don. "But can we do it? That's what counts."
"It's like riding a bicycle," Ritter argued. "You never forget."
Don had not expected anything like this. He didn't want the patrol to be
cocksure--he wanted it to work. But there would be small chance of
work if each scout was going to think that practice was unnecessary.
"Wait until I get some bandages," he said. He ran up to his room and
came down with a little white roll. Ritter smiled confidently.
"Let's see you make a spiral reverse bandage," Don invited.
Ritter took the bandage and went to work on Alex's arm. Presently,
after having gone half way to the elbow, he flushed and pulled the
bandage off.
"It's sloppy," he said. "I see your point. I need practice."
"We all need practice," said Don. There were no further objections to

hard work. The talk became eager as details were planned. The patrol
would practice Wednesday afternoon at troop headquarters. Don would
work with Ritter on splints, and Tim and Andy and Bobbie would form
a team for artificial respiration, fireman's lift and stretcher work. Wally
and Alex would practice straight bandaging at night after Alex had
finished his labors at the Union grocery store.
Bobbie accepted the arrangement in silence. As the meeting broke up
and the scouts crowded into the hall, he pulled at Don's sleeve.
"Must I work with Tim?" he asked.
"Tim's strong and you're light," Don explained. "You can be handled
easily on the fireman's lift and stretcher work."
Bobbie wet his lips and seemed to want to say something more.
Abruptly, though, he turned away and followed the others out to the
porch.
"How about Tim?" Ritter asked. "Shall I tell him about Wednesday?"
Conversation stopped. The feeling of tension came back.
"I'll see him at the field tomorrow," said Don. "I'll tell him myself."
Alex looked at him sharply, and the look said as plainly as words,
"Going to make him toe the mark?"
Don lingered on the porch until the last footstep had died away in the
distance. Then he went up to his room and stared out of the window.
Thunder! Why couldn't Tim stick to his patrol and play fair, and not
spoil all the fun?
He had an uneasy feeling about the morrow's interview. Once he had
heard Mr. Wall say that there is something wrong when a patrol leader
and his scouts live at loggerheads. He did not want to start wrong, he
did not want to quarrel. But what could he do if a scout made up his
mind to stay away from meetings and be nasty?

A dozen times he tried to picture what he would say to Tim and what
Tim would say to him. At last, with an impatient shrug of his shoulders,
he began to undress for bed.
"Tim may be as nice as pie," he muttered. "He may not say a word."
Which was exactly what happened. Tim listened in silence to a report
of what the patrol meeting had decided, nodded shortly when told of
Wednesday's practice, and then moved off a few steps and called for
the ball.
Don found himself, all at once, wishing that this refractory scout had
spoken his mind. As things stood now he did not know what to expect.
Tim might come to the practice, or he might stay away.
Twice, that afternoon, he walked toward the other boy, resolved to ask