Tom Slade with the Colors | Page 9

o'clock and go up to the Community Council rooms, where
you'll meet these ladies and gentlemen who are to form the reception
committee. Reverend Doctor Wade will be looking for you, and he'll
take you in hand and tell you just what to do. There won't be much. I
think the idea is to meet the governor and the general with automobiles
and escort them up to the Lyceum. The committee'll sit on the platform,
I suppose. Doctor Wade will probably do all the talking.... You're not
timid about it, are you?" he added, looking up and smiling.

"Kind of, but----"
"Oh, nonsense; you just do what the others do. Here--here's a reception
committee badge for you to wear. This is one of the burdens of being a
public character, Tom," he added slyly. "Mr. Ellsworth's right, no doubt;
if the scouts are to be represented at all they should be represented by a
scout. Don't be nervous; just do as the others do, and you'll get away
with it all right. Now run along. I suppose I'll be on the platform too, so
I'll see you there.... You look pretty nifty," he added pleasantly, as Tom
took the ribbon badge.
"Mrs. Culver pressed it for me," said Tom. "It had a stain, but she got it
off with gasoline."
"Good for her."
"Would--do you think it would be all right to wear my Gold Cross?"
"You bet!" said Mr. Temple, busy with his mail. "If I had the scouts'
Gold Cross for life-saving, I'd wear it, and I'd have an electric light next
to it, like the tail light on an automobile to show the license number."
Tom laughed. He found it easy to laugh. He was nervous, almost to the
point of panic, but his heart was dancing with joy.
"All right, my boy," laughed Mr. Temple. "Go along now, and good
luck to you."
As Tom went out of Mr. Temple's office he seemed to move on wings.
He was half frightened, but happy as he had never been in all his life.
His cup of joy was overflowing. He had been through the ordeal of
more than one generous ovation from his comrades in the troop; he had
stood awkward and stolid with that characteristic frown of his while
receiving the precious Gold Cross which this night he would wear.
But this was different--oh, so different! He, Tom Slade, was to help
receive the governor of the state and one of Uncle Sam's famous
generals. The Boy Scouts were to be represented because the Boy

Scouts had to be reckoned with on these occasions, and he, Tom Slade,
organizer of the Elk Patrol and now assistant to the scoutmaster, was
chosen for this honor.
"I'm glad I had my suit pressed," he thought.
What a day it had been for him so far! He had had a little chat with
Margaret Ellison, she had said she liked him--anyway, she had almost
said it, and she had taken the little emblem from him and had said that
if he made up his mind to do a thing he would do it. He remembered the
very words. Then he had gone downstairs and received this
overwhelming news from Mr. Temple. What if he had planted his
seeds wrong and bored holes slantingways instead of straight? He was
so proud and happy now that he added the official, patented scout smile
to his sumptuous regalia and smiled all over his face.
He was usually rather timid about speaking to the men in the bank
unless they spoke to him first, for the bank was an awesome place to
him; but to-day he was not afraid, and his recollection of the pleasant
little chat upstairs reminded him of a fine thing to do.
"Is Rossie Bent here?" he asked, stopping at the teller's cage.
"Bent!" called the teller.
Tom waited in suspense.
"Not here," called a voice from somewhere beyond.
"Not here," repeated the teller, and added: "Asleep at the switch, I dare
say."
Evidently the people of the bank had Roscoe's number. A strange
feeling came over Tom which chilled his elation and troubled him.
Irresistibly there rose in his mind a picture of a waiting automobile, of a
dark figure, and a silent departure late at night.
"I guess maybe he's just stopped to register, hey?" said Tom.

"Stopped for something or other, evidently," said the teller.
"Could I speak to Mr. Temple's secretary?" Tom asked.
Mr. Temple's secretary, a brisk little man, came out, greeting Tom
pleasantly.
"Congratulations," said he.
"I meant to ask Mr. Temple if I could have a couple of reserved seat
tickets for the patriotic meeting to-night," said Tom, "but I was kind of
flustered and forgot about it. I could get them later, I guess,