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Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron, by Robert Shaler
Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron, by Robert Shaler This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: The Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron
Author: Robert Shaler
Release Date: July 19, 2004 [EBook #12947]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FLYING SQUADRON ***
Produced by Jim Ludwig
THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE FLYING SQUADRON by Scout Master Robert Shaler
CONTENTS
CHAPTERS
I. The Two Wolf Patrol Boys II. A Camp Supper III. The Mysterious Explosion IV. Reading a "Sign" by Torchlight V. The "Fool-Proof" Aeroplane VI. A Red Letter Day in the Woods VII. Bud's Meteor VIII. Uncle Sam's Flying Squadron IX. Friends in Khaki X. Up in a War Monoplane XI. Good-By to the Foreign Spies XII. Home Again
CHAPTER I
THE TWO WOLF PATROL BOYS
"I want to own up that I'm pretty nearly all in and done for!"
"Same here, Bud. The going was tough over that frozen side of old Stormberg mountain. Then we are carrying such loads into the bargain."
"For one, I'm glad we are nearly there, Hugh."
"Yes, another steady pull and we ought to strike the shanty. We aimed to get to it by nightfall, you remember, Bud."
"Yes, and after eating such a big Thanksgiving dinner, we've been pretty spry to accomplish all we have. Why, I haven't had a pull anything like this since we broke camp last summer up at Pioneer Lake!"
"And we never could have done it only for the lift we got from Farmer Badgely, going home from market. That put us some miles on the way. If you've rested enough, Bud, perhaps we would better be on the move again. The sun is getting close to the diving line, you notice."
"Here goes, then!"
With these words Bud Morgan, first-class scout and one of the leading boys in the Wolf Patrol, inserted his arms in the loops of the pack he was handling, and managed to heave it on to his sturdy back.
His companion did likewise, for each of them was "toting" much more than the customary amount of luggage that a scout on the hike would carry with him.
This comrade was an agile chap, about the same weight as Bud, but with a wide-awake expression on his face that let everybody know in the start that he was one of those born leaders who forge to the front through circumstances often beyond their control.
Hugh Hardin was not only leader of the Wolf Patrol. Sometimes he had been deputized to act in place of the regular scout master of the troop, when Lieutenant Denmead and Assistant Rawson chanced to be called away and could not serve. So well had Hugh carried out his task on such occasions, it was generally accepted as a foregone conclusion that in case the latter officer resigned, as he had lately given hints of doing, Hugh would be elected in his stead. There might be a few boys in the troop, now consisting of four patrols, who would prefer to see Alec Sands, leader of the Otters, placed in that elevated position, but his popularity was confined to his particular chums, while that of Hugh embraced members of every patrol.
On this day, Hugh and Bud had started from home immediately after partaking of a glorious Thanksgiving feast. As all preparations had been made for this trip up into the wilderness many miles above the home town, it was evident that they had a particular object in view; which, in fact, was the case.
Bud Morgan was rather given to conjuring up new and sometimes startling inventions. These he usually tried upon some of his mates and not always in a fashion to add to their peace of mind, either. On more than one occasion in the past they had been suddenly confronted by some innovation that for the moment rather demoralized the valiant wearers of the scout khaki.
Bud had not been very successful in his wonderful inventions. They were apt to disappoint him in the severe testing out. Theory might be all very well, but when it came to practice there was generally a screw loose in his figuring that could not be tightened; and, in consequence, trouble often perched on Bud's shoulders.
During the late summer and early autumn he had been working on some idea that seemed to have taken hold of his mind to a greater extent than any previous effort had ever done. His chums knew of it, but no one had been able to coax Bud to let them share his confidence.
When the time came that Bud could not contain his secret any
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