on the discovery that a "guy" has no right to "slam" a
marshal just because he sets a dirty beer can on his mother's picture.
His first enterprise after his liberation was a flank move on Schmitt's
Grocery where he stole a couple of apples and a banana, which latter he
ate going along the street. These were his only luncheon. The banana
skin he threw on the pave-ment.
In a few moments he heard footsteps behind him and, turning, saw a
small boy coming along dangling the peel he had dropped. The boy
was a jaunty little fellow, wearing a natty spring suit. It was, in fact,
"Pee-wee" Harris, Tenderfoot, who was just starting out to cover
Provision 5 of the Second Class Scout requirements, for he was going
to be a Second Class Scout before camping-time, or know the reason
why.
"You drop that?" he asked pleasantly.
"Ye-re, you kin have it," said Tom cynically.
"Thanks," said Pee-wee, and the banana peel went sailing over the
fence into Temple's lot.
"First thing you know somebody'd get a free ride on that thing," said
Pee-wee.
"Ye-re?" said Tom sneeringly.
"And if anybody got anything free near John Temple's property----"
"Dere's where yer said it, kiddo," said Tom, approvingly.
"So long," said Pee-wee, and went gaily on, walking a little, then
running a little, then walk-ing again, until Tom thought he must be
crazy. Happening just at that minute to finish one of his apples (or
rather one of Schmitt's apples) he let fly the core straight for the back of
Pee-wee's head.
Then a most extraordinary thing, happened. Without so much as
turning round, Pee-wee raised his hand, caught the core, threw it over
into the lot, and then, turning, laughed, "Thanks, good shot!"
Tom had always supposed that the back of a person's head was a safe
target, and he could not comprehend the instinct which was so alert and
highly-tuned that it could work entirely independent of the eyes. But
this was merely one of Pee-wee's specialties, and his amazing progress
from Tenderfoot to Star Scout is a story all by itself.
Tom hoisted himself onto the board fence and attacked the other apple.
Just then along came "Sweet Caporal" demanding the core.
"Gimme it 'n' I'll put yer wise ter sup'm."
Tom made the speculation.
"Wop Joe's around de corner wid his pushcart? wot d'ye say we give
him de spill?"
They were presently joined by "Slats" Corbett, and the "Two Aces,"
Jim and Jake Mattenberg, and shortly thereafter Wop Joe's little
candystand was carried by assault.
The gum-drops and chocolate bars which did not find their way into the
pockets of the storming host, were strewn about the street, the whistle
of the peanut-roaster was broken off and Tom went scooting down the
street tooting it vigorously.
This affair scattered the gang for the time, and presently Tom and
"Sweet Caporal" found themselves together. They got an empty bottle
from an ash wagon, broke it and distributed the pieces along Broad
Street, which they selected as a sort of "mine area" for the
embarrassment of auto traffic.
Tom then shuffled into the Public Library, ostensibly to read, but in
fact to decorate the books according to his own theories of art, and was
ejected because he giggled and scuffed his feet and interfered with the
readers.
It would not be edifying to follow Tom's shuffling footsteps that
afternoon, nor to enumerate the catalogue of unseemly phrase and
vicious mischief which filled the balance of the day. He wound up his
career of glory by one of the most contemptible things which he had
ever done. He went up at dusk and tacked his quarantine sign to the
outer gate of the Bennett place.
"Gee, I hope they're all home," he said.
They were all at home and Mrs. Bennett, whom he hated, was
busy with preparation and happy anticipations for her unsuspecting son.
That the wretched plan did not succeed was due to no preparatory
omission on the part of Tom, but because something happened which
changed the whole face of things.
CHAPTER IV
CAMP SOLITAIRE
Tom's visit to the Library reminded him that it was here "them
regiment fellers" met, and since it was near the Bennett place he
decided to loiter thereabout, partly for the ineffable pleasure of
beholding the side-tracking of Connover's party, and partly in the hope
of seeing Mr. Ellsworth again.
So he shuffled around a little before dark and did sentinel duty between
the two places. He wanted something to eat very much indeed, and he
surmised that such a sympathetic fellow as young Mr. Ellsworth would
"give him the lend of a nickel" especially if he were tipped off in regard
to the coming ball game.
Standing outside, Tom heard
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