The Boy Scouts Patrol | Page 2

a
pamphlet from his pocket and holding it out to his companions,
"speaking of trails, what do you think of that?"
"What is it?" asked Pepper, eying it suspiciously. "Looks as if the cat
had been walking on it." goodness, I hope not. I thought you were
always hungry, but if you are only beginning I foresee a famine ahead
of us. And to think of all the good food that is wasted on you, Pepper,"
went on Donald reflectively. "Why, to look at you any one might think
that you never had had enough to eat."
"That shows how deceiving looks are," replied Pepper. "Though I never
did have enough," he added plaintively.
"Of course not," returned Donald, "there isn't as much as that
anywhere."
"As much what?" asked Rand.
"Food, grub, provisions, victuals," replied Donald, setting off along the
road at a pace that put a stop to any more talk.
They had gone perhaps about halfway down the hill toward the
boathouse when a big bay horse, drawing a light wagon in which were
three boys, came quickly around a turn in the road. It bore down on
them so suddenly that only by a rapid scramble up the bank by the side
of the road did Rand and Donald save themselves from being bowled
over.

The newcomers would have driven on with a jeering laugh only that
Pepper, angry at what obedience, neatness and order are Scout virtues.
Endurance, self-reliance, self-control and an effort to help some one
else are Scout objectives."
"Ah, cut it out!" protested Pepper. "As Alphonse says 'that makes me
the ennui.' It sounds like a boarding school prospectus. Tell as what it's
about."
"Well, then," replied Rand, "in words adapted to your comprehension,
it is about hunting, scouting, camping, tracking; and Colonel Snow is
interested in the organization. He says that it is fine."
"Speaking of tracking," interjected Donald, "in my opinion it were no
bad plan to be making tracks toward the boathouse if we are going to
get anywhere the day. It is getting bright in the east and it looks like a
clear day, after all. And I may also take occasion to remark that I
haven't had my breakfast yet, and this Boy Scout business doesn't
sound inviting on an empty stomach. We can discuss it with more
comfort when we have had a bite."
"That's the talk!" approved Pepper. "That suits me down to the ground.
I'm beginning to get hungry myself."
"Beginning!" exclaimed Donald. "My
"That isn't a bad guess," laughed Rand. "It is supposed to represent the
track of a bear."
"What are you going to do, Rand?" questioned Donald, "hunt bears?"
"Not at present," answered Rand, "though I should like to well enough.
This is a booklet about the Boy Scouts."
"The Boy Scouts!" demanded Pepper; "what's them?"
"Shades of Lindley Murray!" exclaimed Rand, "do I hear aright?
What's them! And you a graduate of number one. Really, Pepper Blake,

I don't believe we can let you in on this. What do you think about it,
Don?"
"I have my doubts about it," replied Donald gravely.
"But what is it?" persisted Pepper. "It sounds good to me."
"That is better," drawled Rand. "It not only sounds good, but it is good,
as you elegantly express it. IT, according to the pamphlet that I have
here, is an organization for boys between the ages of twelve and
eighteen to train them in self-reliance, manhood and good citizenship.
The movement is not essentially military," went on Rand, "but the
military virtues of discipline, looked like a deliberate attempt to run
over them, sprang to the horse's head as it was passing, catching the
bridle, and with a loud "whoa" he brought the outfit to a stop.
"What are you t-t-trying to do, Jim Rae!" he shouted to the youthful
driver, "run over us?"
"Aw, g-g-go on, kiddie!" retorted Jim, a stout lad of about Rand's age,
with a freckled face and a shock of aggressive red hair, mimicking
Pepper, who, when excited, sometimes stuttered. "Aw, g-g-go on. Little
boys shouldn't play in the road."
"If you can't d-drive without getting all over the road," went on Pepper,
"why d-don't you let somebody d-drive that knows how--"
"Aw, g-g-go chase yourself," cried Jim. "You ought to bring youse
mamma along to take care of youse. Get up, Bill!" with a flourish of the
whip and a jerk on the lines.
The horse made a jump, but Pepper held firmly to the bridle and
brought it to a stop.
"Let go that horse!" shouted Jim.
"Hit him with the whip, Jim," urged one of the boys in the wagon.
"D-d-don't you dare hit me with that whip," warned Pepper as Jim

snapped the whip close to him, "or you will