United States or São Tomé and Príncipe ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Accordingly all mention of Tony Pollock and his scapegrace cronies was avoided as they once more entered into a warm but perfectly friendly argument. There was one among them, however, who seemed to still look troubled. This was no other than Carl Oskamp.
Oskamp was surprised as she stood over the stove in the neat kitchen of her little cottage home when her oldest boy and his chum, Tom Chesney, whom she liked very much indeed, entered. Their manner told her immediately that it was design and not accident that had brought them in together.
There's Tom Chesney to begin with; George Cooper here, who ought to make a pretty fair scout even if he is always finding fault; Carl Oskamp, also present, if we can only tear him away from his hobby of raising homing pigeons long enough to study up what scouts have to know; yourself, Josh Kingsley; and a fellow by the name of Felix Robbins, which happens to be me."
Well, Dock got it, I'm as sure now as that my name's Carl Oskamp. The only question that bothers me now is how can I make him give it up, or tell what he did with it." "If he took it, and has already handed it over to Mr. Culpepper, there's not a single chance in ten you'll ever see it again," Tom asserted; "but we've got one thing in our favor."
With that he held up the precious little paper so that those in the sitting room could see it. Mrs. Oskamp gave a bubbling cry of joy, while Amasa Culpepper, seizing his hat and stick, hurried out of the door, entered his buggy and whipped his horse savagely, as though glad to vent his ill humor on some animate object.
On the following day they took Judge Beatty, who was an old friend of Carl's father, into their confidence, and the certificate of stock was promptly though grudgingly delivered to them on demand. Amasa Culpepper knew that he had been fairly beaten in the game, and he annoyed Mrs. Oskamp no longer.
Oskamp looked wonderingly at them both. "I don't remember saying anything of that sort to you, Carl," she presently remarked, slowly and with a puzzled expression on her pretty plump face. "But you did leave him alone there, didn't you?" the boy persisted, as though something in her manner convinced him that he was on the track of a valuable clue.
Culpepper about it, and offer to hand over, or destroy the paper, for a certain amount of cash." "But that would be very wicked, son!" expostulated Mrs. Oskamp. "Oh well, a little thing like that wouldn't bother Tony Pollock or Dock Phillips; and they're both of the same stripe. Haven't we hunted high and low for that paper, and wondered where under the sun it could have gone?
"How about others who are lazy, and always wanting to put things off to another day? Do those same rules say 'procrastination is the thief of time?" "Well boys," remarked Carl Oskamp, pouring oil on the troubled water as was his habit, "we've all got our faults, and it might be a good thing if joining the scouts made us change our ways more or less.
Carl lived in a pretty little cottage with his mother, and three other children. There was Angus, a little chap of five, Dot just three, and Elsie well turned seven. Everybody liked to visit the Oskamp home, there was such an air of contentment and happiness about the entire family, despite the fact that they missed the presence of the one who had long been their guide and protector.