Ellsworth wouldn't like the idea. Anyway I got up and began: "The author that wrote all about 'Tom Slade's adventures in the World War'," I said, "told me it would be a good idea for one to write up our troop's adventures and he'd help me to get them published." Then up jumped Pee-wee Harris like a jack in the box.
"There isn't but three no two ninety-four or five quintal more by my reckoning." "Hire a substitute," suggested Cheyne, to see what Harvey would say. "Can't, sir. I'm tally-man for the schooner. Troop says I've a better head for figures than Dan. Troop's a mighty just man." "Well, suppose I don't move the 'Constance' to-night, how'll you fix it?"
Here by the hub of the Gatling's wheel stands old Feeny, close at the elbow of dark-faced Drummond. "C" troop's first platoon "mans" the Gatling gun, and under its old leader of the Arizona campaigns "leads the procession" into the "Garden City" of the ante-bellum days.
These regiments had been moved toward the ridge out of the line of fire in the North valley, and were kept shifting their position and gradually retiring, suffering frequent casualties from the Russian artillery about redoubt No. 2 until they finally halted near the crest in the vicinity of "C" Troop's latest position at point F.
"'Cause I knew him, as you might say, over in France. We catch fish in the brook and we don't use the camp stores much." "Wall, naow, I wouldn' call this bein' in the camp at all; not yet, leastways," Uncle Jeb said, including the stranger in his shrewd, friendly glance. "Tommy, here, is a privileged character, as the feller says. En your troop's coming later, hain't they?
Ford now and talk it over with him. Who wants to go along?" "I'll go," said Bud Weir. "So'll I," added Romper. "All right, come along," replied Bruce. And five minutes later three motorcycles were scooting out toward the hydro-electric plant where Mr. Ford, the Quarry Troop's Assistant Scoutmaster, was superintendent.
"No, I wouldn't like that. And dad'd hate it worse than if I broke the promise. Besides, I'm going to pay back B Troop." "B Troop! My troop? What do you owe B Troop?" "Why, B Troop's been sending us its surplus rations." "You sure?" "Well, the sutler said so." "I think there's a mistake. B Troop has had no surplus rations." "Had no " she began, amazed. "Must have been the sutler's own stuff."
"Old Nanc," the troop's automobile, stood in front of the old machine shop piled high with tarpaulins, cooking utensils, provisions, and a dozen and one other things that the scouts used in their summer camp, and in the driver's seat was Brad Henshaw, Dr. Lyman's chauffeur.
"You're right they are," said Tom, thinking of the troop's motor boat away home in Bridgeboro. "Of course, I don't mind the walk down there," he added, "only it seemed kind of funny " "It's tragic for some of these lame fellows." "Who is the chief engineer," Tom asked. "Oh, he's a kid that was a despatch rider, I think. Anyway, he's wise to motorcycles.
The day after the deputation from his men had spoken to Charlie, Tim said: "I hope, yer honor, that whin the troop's disbanded, you will be going home for a bit, yourself." "I intend to do so, Tim. I have been wanting to get away, for the last two years, but I did not like to ask for leave until everything was settled here.