Tom Slade with the Colors | Page 2

saw him!"
"Of course, that proves he isn't a coward," said Roy slyly.
"There's going to be work, and a whole lot of it, for every one to do,

Tom," continued Mr. Ellsworth pleasantly. "There is going to be work
for old men and young men, for women and girls and boys--and scouts.
And being a slacker consists in not doing the work which you ought to
do. If a girl has a flower bed where she might grow tomatoes, and she
grows roses there instead, you might call her a slacker.
"The officials in Washington who have this tremendous burden on their
shoulders have told us what we, as scouts (Mr. Ellsworth always called
himself a scout), ought to do. They have outlined a program for us.
Now if you run off and join the army in the hope of doing a man's work,
why then some man has got to knuckle down and do your work. See?"
"I'm sick of boring holes in sticks," grunted Tom.
"Well, I dare say you are. I never said it was as pleasant as eating ice
cream. What I say is that we must all knuckle down and do what we
can do best to help defend Old Glory. And we can't always choose our
work for ourselves. I'm going to stay here, for the present, at least, and
keep you scouts busy. And I don't consider that I'm a slacker either. If
you all stand by me and help, I can be of more service right here, just
now, than I could be if I went away."
"Then why does the government have posters out all around, urging
fellers to join the army?" said Tom, unconvinced.
"There are fellers and fellers," said Mr. Ellsworth, mimicking Tom's
pronunciation of the word, "and what is best for one isn't necessarily
best for another. These posters are for fellows older than you, as you
know perfectly well. I'm talking now of what is best for you--at present.
Won't you trust me? If you can't obey and trust your scoutmaster, you
couldn't obey and trust your captain and your general."
"I never said I didn't," said Tom.
"Well, then, leave it to me. When the time comes for you to join the
army, I'll tell you so, and I'll shout it so loud that you can't make any
mistake. Meanwhile, put aside all that idea and knuckle down and help.
You're just as much with the colors now as if you were in the

trenches.... You'll be on hand early to-morrow?"
"I s'pose so," said Tom sullenly.
Mr. Ellsworth looked at him steadily. No doubt it was something in
Tom's grudging manner that made him apprehensive, but perhaps too
as he looked at the boy who had been growing up before his eyes in the
past two years, he realized as he had not realized before that Tom had
come to be a pretty fine specimen and could stand unconcerned, as he
certainly would, at the most rigid and exacting physical test.
When Tom's rapid growth had brought the inevitable advent of long
trousers, arousing the unholy mirth of Roy Blakeley and others, Mr.
Ellsworth had experienced a jarring realization that the process had
begun whereby his scouts would soon begin slipping away from him.
He had compromised with Time by making Tom a sort of assistant
scoutmaster and encouraging Connie Bennett to work into Tom's place
as leader of the Elk Patrol; and he had lived in continual dread lest Tom
(who might be counted on for anything) discover his own size, as it
were, and get the notion in his stubborn head that he was too big to be a
scout at all.
But Tom had thought too much of the troop and of the Elks for that,
and a new cause of apprehension for Mr. Ellsworth had arisen which
now showed in every line of his face as he looked at Tom.
"I want you to promise me, Tom, that you won't try to enlist without
my permission. If you'll say that and obey Rule Seven the same as you
have always obeyed it, I'll be satisfied."
"How about Rule Ten?" said Tom, in his usual dogged, half-hearted
manner; "a scout has got to be brave, he's got to face danger, he's----"
"You notice Rule Seven comes before Rule Ten," snapped Mr.
Ellsworth. "They put them in the order of their importance. The men
who made the Handbook knew what they were about. The question is
just whether you're going to continue to respect Rule Seven, that's all."

Mr. Ellsworth knew how to handle Tom.
"Yes, I am," Tom said reluctantly.
"Then that's all there is to it. Give me your hand, Tom."
Tom put out his hand, and as the scoutmaster shook it his