Roy Blakeleys Adventures in Camp | Page 5

in Dutch,
and you've got to do me a good turn. Will you?"
"Good turns are our middle names," I told him, "but anyway, I'd like to

know who you are--that's sure."
Then he said, "I'm Lieutenant Donnelle, Mr. Donnelle's son. And I
guess I had a right to run away from the boat, didn't I?"
"G-o-o-d night!" I said.
CHAPTER III
TELLS HOW I MADE A PROMISE
Then he said, "Were you one of the kids who were coming along with
my father when I jumped out of the boat?" And I told him yes. Then he
said, "You don't think he saw me, do you?" I said, "Yes, he saw you,
but I guess he didn't know who you were, he didn't see your face, that's
sure."
"Thank goodness for that," he said, "because I've caused the old gent a
lot of trouble."
"Anyway," I told him, "I don't see why you don't wear your uniform.
Gee, if I had a lieutenant's uniform you bet I'd wear it."
"Would you?" he said, and he began to laugh. Then he said, "Well, now,
let's sit down here on this bench and I'll tell you what you're going to
do, and then I'll tell you what I'm going to do, and we'll have to be
quick about it." Then he looked out over the water and listened and as
soon as he was sure nobody was coming, he put his arm over my
shoulder and made me sit down on the bench beside him. I have to
admit I kind of liked that fellow, even though I kind of thought he was,
you know, wild, sort of. It seemed as if he was the kind of a fellow to
have a lot of adventures and to be reckless and all that.
"Maybe you can tell me what you're going to do," I told him, "but you
can't tell me what I'm going to do--that's one sure thing."
"Oh, yes I can," he said, "because you're a bully kid and you're an A-1
sport, and you and I are going to be pals. What do you say?"

"I can't deny that I like you," I said, "and I bet you've been to a lot of
places."
"France, Russia, South America, Panama and Montclair, New Jersey,"
he said, "and Bronx Park." Gee, I didn't know how to take him, he was
so funny.
"Ever been up in an airplane?" he said.
"Cracky, I'd like to," I told him.
"I went from Paris to the Channel in an airplane," he said.
Then he gave me a crack on the back and he put his arm around my
shoulder awful nice and friendly like, and it made me kind of proud
because I knew him.
"Now, you listen here," he said, "I'm in a dickens of a fix. You live in
Bridgeboro; do you know Jake Holden?"
"Sure I know him, he's a fisherman," I said; "the very same night your
father told us we could use this boat I saw him, and the next day I went
to try to find him for a certain reason, and he was gone away down the
bay after fish. He taught me how to fry eels."
"Get out," he said, "really?"
"Honest, he did," I told him.
"Well, some day I'll show you how to cook bear's meat. There's
something you don't know."
"Did you ever cook bear's meat?" I asked him.
"Surest thing you know," he said; "black bears, gray bears, grisly
bears--"
"Jiminy," I said.

Then he went on and this is what he told me, keeping his arm around
my shoulder and every minute or so listening and looking out over the
water. "Here's something you didn't know," he said. Gee, I can
remember every word almost, because you bet I listened. A fellow
couldn't help listening to him. He said, "When Jake Holden went down
the bay, your Uncle Dudley was with him."
I said, "You mean you?"
"I mean me," he said. "I was home from Camp Dix on a short leave and
was on my way to see the old gent and the rest of the folks, when who
should I run plunk into but that old water rat. It was five o'clock in the
morning, and I was just taking a hop, skip and a jump off the train.
'Come on down the bay fishing,' he says. 'What, in these togs?' I told
him. 'I'll get 'em all greased up and what'll Uncle Sam say?' 'Go home
and get some old ones,' he said. ''Gainst the rules,' I said, 'can't be
running around in civilized clothes.' 'You should worry about civilized
clothes,' he said. 'Go up to your dad's old house-boat in the marshes and
get some fishin' duds on--the locker's full