Don Strong, Patrol Leader | Page 8

moment he passed out of troop headquarters, Andy caught his arm.
"Did you see Tim roughing Bobbie all afternoon?"
"Hurting him?" Don asked quickly.
"Not really hurting him, but pulling his hair, and twisting his ears, and
things like that. Bobbie's frightened. It's going to spoil all our first aid."
Don's mouth twitched. He had congratulated himself that the work had
gone so well. And all the while trouble had been lurking at his elbow.
He walked back into troop headquarters with his head bent. If one scout
was going to nag another there would be no harmony, no pulling
together, no striving toward a common goal. It would be good-by to the
Wolf patrol so far as the Scoutmaster's Cup was concerned.
He paused in front of the slate. What should he do? If he went to Tim
and told him plump and plain to cut it out, there might be a ruction. If
he allowed the nagging to go on, there would be tension and unrest
within the patrol. No matter which way he turned, disorder and
adversity loomed.
He walked to the window where Bobbie stood. Suddenly he stiffened.
"Isn't that Tim down the road--that fellow leaning against the fence?"
Bobbie nodded nervously.
Don drew a deep breath. He knew what was happening. Tim was
waiting to continue his plaguing.

"I--I guess I'll go," said Bobbie again.
"Wait," said Don. "I'm going down that way."
There was no help for it. He had no choice. He couldn't let Bobbie go
out and get his hair pulled and his ears twisted. He'd have to see him
past the danger.
There was vast relief on Bobbie's face as they came out of troop
headquarters. But Don's face was grave.
It took but a minute to walk down the road to the fence. Bobbie's steps
unconsciously became slower. He edged out toward the curb. Tim saw
him and instantly became alert.
"Here, now," he called; "don't try to dodge past. Come over here and--"
"Hello, Tim," said Don.
Tim stopped short. His eyes darkened suspiciously, as though he
suspected that Don was acting as guardian. For a moment he seemed to
be debating what he should do; and while he paused, Bobbie edged
past.
"Don't forget Monday," said Don. He wanted to shift the other boy's
thoughts.
"I may be busy Monday," Tim answered scowlingly. He took a step
after Bobbie, but found the patrol leader in his way and stopped short.
Don continued on down the road. He knew that Tim was aware why he
had walked with Bobbie, and he knew that Tim resented it. After all,
what had he gained? He couldn't be with Bobbie always. If Tim wanted
to plague, he could catch the little scout alone almost any day.
Abruptly Don swung around and went back. Tim, seeing him coming,
set his feet farther apart. It was a fighting pose. Don's heart fluttered.
"Look here, Tim," he said; "what's the use of stewing around this way?

Why can't we all pull together?"
"Did I do anything to you?" Tim asked.
"No, but--What's the use of tormenting Bobbie?"
"Gee! Are you the keeper of the whole patrol?"
Don bit his lips. The talk wasn't going at all the way he wanted.
"We've got to work together," he said, "or we won't have a chance for
the cup."
"Don't you worry about me," Tim said airily. "I'll do my share. Didn't I
show up for practice today?"
"Yes."
"Well, what more do you want?"
Don hesitated. Tim began to grin. He walked back to the fence and
leaned there carelessly.
"It--it's going to muss the practice if you tease Bobbie," Don said
slowly. "He'll be edging away from you, not knowing what moment
you'll twig him, and it will spoil the work. You can't give him a good
fireman's lift if he's hanging back."
"What are you doing," Tim demanded, "asking me to let up on him or
telling me?"
"I'm asking you," Don said slowly.
"Oh! Well, that's all right." Tim's grin grew broader. "I won't bother
him."
All the way home Don was haunted by that grin. He knew what it
meant. Tim thought he had started back to lay down the law and had
wilted. Tim thought he was afraid.

Don swallowed a lump in his throat. There was no use in trying to
disguise the truth. Deep in his heart he didn't know whether he was or
not.
CHAPTER III
TIM STANDS BY
It was a very quiet Don who sat down to supper that night. He had the
uncomfortable conviction that he had blundered. Having started to see
Bobbie past trouble, he should have seen him past with quiet firmness.
It had been a mistake to try to bargain.
Regrets, though, would do him no